
«nt 



















COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 


The Boy Scouts of Berkshire 









The Boy Scouts of 
Berkshire 


By 

WALTER PRICHARD EATON 

Illustrated by 
CHARLES COPELAND 



W. A. WILDE COMPANY 


BOSTON 


CHICAGO 






Copyrighted, 1912 
By W. A. Wilde Company 
All rights reserved 

The Boy Scouts of Berkshire 






4t I ?-*- 

5QCI.A320368 


AUSTEN FOX RIGGS 










Foreword 



HIS is a book for scouts, and for boys who 


JL want to be scouts. It is not a tale of thrilling 
adventure in strange lands, because it is the story of 
a scout patrol right at home, in the kind of an 
American town you and I live in. But these scouts 
of the Chipmunk Patrol had a pretty good time just 
the same, and sometimes a pretty exciting one. If 
you would like to know how they had it, if you 
would like to hear what boy scouting meant to 
them, what they learned in camp and on the long 
hike, what games they played, what adventures be- 
fell them, from the days when, as tenderfeet of twelve, 
in short trousers, they joined the troop, till they grew 
to football size and merit badges, then the author 
hopes you’ll read his book. If you are a scout al- 
ready, he is willing to wager there aren’t so many 
first-class scouts in your patrol as there are in this 
story ; but that is not because you aren’t so smart as 
the scouts of Berkshire, but because you haven’t 
tried so hard, or paid so much attention to business. 
You can do everything the boys in this book did, if 
you take a hitch in your belt and get down to the 


FOREWORD 


The story, you will find if you read it, leaves the 
Chipmunks at a point where they are strong, “ pre- 
pared,” and old enough to tackle bigger things. 
The smiling Peanut, always cheerful, always ready 
for fun or for trouble, can hardly be expected to stay 
cooped up in the village of Southmead all his life ! 
We have no idea where he’ll go, but it is certain that 
he, and some of his fellow scouts, will go somewhere 
pretty soon, to see strange countries and tackle new 
adventures. And it is equally certain that Peanut 
will expect us to write a book about it. The last 
time we saw him, he had almost decided to save up 
his earnings and go with Mr. Rogers to the great 
Dismal Swamp of Virginia, and was urging the 
Wildcat and others to go along, too. Anyhow, 
we’ve got our paper ready, and our pencils sharp- 
ened. 


Contents 


I. 

The Chipmunks’ First Hike . 


13 

II. 

The First Camp-Fire 


29 

III. 

The Scout House is Robbed . 


46 

IV. 

Predatory Wealth 


57 

V. 

The Court Martial of the Prisoners 


64 

VI. 

Lou Merritt Finds His Honor 


72 

VII. 

Up Greylock 


76 

VIII. 

First Aid Put to the Test . 


9 i 

IX. 

Off For Camp .... 


102 

X. 

The Camp-Fire Yarn 


hi 

XI. 

Lost in the Woods 


119 

XII. 

The Canoe Tilt .... 


131 

XIII. 

Arthur Gets His Wildcat . 


138 

XIV. 

Swimming Tests and Breaking Camp 


i 47 

XV. 

The Track Team Try-Outs . 


i 53 

XVI. 

Getting Ready For the Meet 


160 

XVII. 

The Great Track Meet 


166 

XVIII. 

Taking In the New Patrols . 


180 

XIX. 

The Long Hike .... 


189 

XX. 

The Legend of Pulpit Rock . 


206 

XXI. 

A Helping Hand .... 


209 

XXII. 

The Railroad Wreck '. 


217 


CONTENTS 


XXIII. 

In Ancient Deerfield 

226 

XXIV. 

Home Again 

234 

XXV. 

Building the Track .... 

243 

XXVI. 

The Field Day 

250 

XXVII. 

Peanut and Art Make a Dog Sledge 

263 

XXVIII. 

The Great Fire 

271 

XXIX. 

Merit Badges and Memorial Day 



Parade 

291 

XXX. 

The Sanitary Crusade 

302 


The Boy Scouts of Berkshire 


CHAPTER I 

The Chipmunks’ First Hike 

I T was a fine Saturday morning in early June. 

The Berkshire Hills of Western Massachusetts 
were brilliant green, and as the river wound through 
the meadows at their feet it sparkled in the sun so 
brightly that you would never have guessed it was 
fouled with the drainage from various towns and not 
fit for a dog to swim in. The eight o’clock trolley 
out of Southmead was rolling along beside this river, 
and on the two rear seats were eight boys, some of 
them in brown khaki uniforms, some not, and a man 
of thirty. They were the Chipmunk Patrol of the 
Southmead Boy Scouts. They had been enrolled as 
tenderfeet only a few days, for the boy scout organi- 
zation was new in Southmead, and, with their scout- 
master, they were bound on their first hike, up 
October Mountain. 

Seven of them were boys under fourteen, for the 
Chipmunk Patrol was made up of what the Crow 
J 3 


i 4 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Patrol called “ the little kids.” The eighth boy, 
Robert Everts, was older. He was nearing his six- 
teenth birthday, and was the leader of the patrol. 
He sat beside the scout-master, a young man who 
looked as if he were still capable of giving an account 
of himself on the athletic field, and who had been 
influential in organizing the boys of Southmead into 
a scout troop. 

“The kids are feeling good this morning, Mr. 
Rogers,” said Rob. “ Ought I to tell them to keep 
quieter? ” 

The scout-master grinned. “ Never mind,” he 
said, “they are in the rear seats and not disturb- 
ing anybody. We’ll take it out of ’em before 
night ! ” 

As he spoke, a small red head turned around on 
the seat in front, and the keen, mischievous eyes of 
Bobbie Morrison were fixed upon his. Bobbie 
Morrison was the smallest boy in the patrol, but, as 
the physics you study in school would say, his spirits 
varied inversely as his size. He was so small that 
he was called Peanut, but he was active and quick as 
a cat, sandy as a little terrier, and with an unfailing 
supply of good nature. 

“ Hi, fellers,” he now shouted. “ Mister Rogers 
says he’s goin’ to take it out of us ! ” 

He rose in his seat, took off his brown scout hat 
(for he was one of the boys in uniform) and, grab- 


THE CHIPMUNKS’ FIRST HIKE 15 

bing it by the brim like a tennis racquet, reached 
over and hit Arthur Bruce on the head. 

Arthur Bruce was the exact opposite of Peanut in 
everything but good nature. He was slow of speech 
and action, stocky and strong for his age — about 
thirteen — and quiet and serious in manner. But he, 
too, was invariably good-natured. He turned with 
a jump when Peanut’s hat came down on his head, 
grinned amiably, and deliberately taking off his own 
hat smote Willie Walker, who was on the seat 
behind. 

Willie Walker was noted among the boys for his 
ability to talk incessantly, and say nothing. He was 
often called Willie Talker. Willie had a shock of 
yellow hair which stood straight up on his head, 
every which way, like Slovenly Peter’s in the 
famous story. He was not a bad boy, but nobody 
had taught him how to fix his mind on a subject, so 
that he was always getting credit for being a dull 
boy in school, because he never knew his lessons, 
and for being a bad boy because he used his brain 
to invent new kinds of spitballs instead of learning 
his geography. Willie really had a brain, but it went 
every which way, like his hair. It needed combing. 

“ Hi, there ! ” he yelled, when Arthur’s hat hit 
him. “ I ain’t done nothin’. Pass it on.” 

He rose in his seat and “ passed it on,” smacking 
Dennis O’Brien on the head with his cap. 


16 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


Dennis took his turn at somebody else. All the 
boys were whacking each other, and Willie Walker 
was crying, “ Hit him again, he's Irish ! ” The con- 
ductor and a few passengers on the forward seats 
watched, amused. One boy only, on the rear seat, 
seemed to be taking no active part. He was Lou 
Merritt, a stocky, dark-eyed lad, poorly dressed, 
without a uniform. The scout-master watched him. 
Now and then he would sneak his hat off quickly, 
when he thought nobody was looking, wallop a 
boy on the seat in front, and sneak his cap back on 
his own head before he was detected. Finally some- 
body hit him. 

“ Aw, quit it, will you ? ” he half whined. “ I 
didn’t hit you.” 

“ No, don’t hit Lou ; he’s got a soft head,” said 
Willie Walker, with one of his shrill laughs. He 
was always making jokes and laughing at them 
himself. It didn’t trouble him in the least whether 
anybody else laughed or not. 

The scout-master looked at Lou sharply. “ Is 
Lou a bit of a sneak?” he asked Rob Everts. 

“ I’m afraid so,” the latter replied. 

“ H’m,” said the man. “ We’ll have to attend to 
his case.” 

The car had by now passed through a village, and 
was running along by the side of a steep hill. Th® 
scout-master signaled to the conductor, and the car 


THE CHIPMUNKS’ FIRST HIKE 


17 

stopped where a crossroad led off up the slope. 
“ All out ! ” he cried. 

There was a quick scramble under the seats, and 
the boys piled out with their equipment — each boy 
with a staff and a small khaki knapsack. Two or three 
boys, in addition, had tin dippers and small frying- 
pans tied to their belts, and Arthur Bruce had a small 
sheathed axe, such as hunters carry. The car moved 
on. The little squad of boys, left in the road, shoul- 
dered their packs, fell, at Rob’s command, into column 
of twos, and began to march up the country road. 
Rob walked at the head, with Mr. Rogers at one 
side. It was an awkward squad behind, for the 
Chipmunks did not yet know how to march. 

“Too bad we haven’t got some music,” said Rob. 

The scout-master turned to the boys. “Who’s 
the best whistler?” he asked. 

“ I am,” came the shrill voice of Willie Walker. 

“ Well, what do you know about that ! ” cried 
Peanut. “ Honest, he don’t care what he says.” 

The other boys set up a shout of derision, which 
didn’t in the least disturb Willie’s good nature. 

“ All right,” said the scout-master, “ I’ll take you 
at your word. Fall out.” 

Willie pretended to stub his toe and fell, quite 
literally, out of the line. Some of the boys snickered. 
Some of them didn’t. The scout-master stood over 
Willie and spoke with sudden sternness. 


18 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ Get up ! ” he said. 

Willie got up, a little ashamed. 

“ Dust your clothes ! ” 

He dusted his clothes with his hands. 

“ Now, when you are marching under orders, it 
isn’t funny to be fresh,” the scout-master went on. 
“ Scouts are supposed to know how to march, to 
obey orders, not to be silly little kids any more. Go 
up in front and whistle a march, and keep on whis- 
tling till you are ordered to stop ! ” 

Willie went to the front of the line. “ What shall 
I whistle ? ” said he. 

“You’re the best whistler here; you ought to 
know,” said Mr. Rogers. 

The other boys again laughed. Willie, whose 
natural good nature was not easily crushed, saw he 
was caught in his own trap. He puckered his lips, 
and began to whistle, some two notes off the key, 
“ Our Director.” 

“ Fall in ! ” cried Rob. 

The boys fell into column of twos again. 

“ Forward march ! ” 

With Willie at their head, whistling, the patrol 
renewed its march, keeping step now. 

“Isn’t that the Harvard football song?” asked 
Rob of Mr. Rogers. 

“ Yes,” said he. “ Everybody whistle ! ” 

It wasn’t exactly a pretty sound which resulted, 


THE CHIPMUNKS’ FIRST HIKE 


19 


but it had the march rhythm, and whistling merrily 
the Chipmunks swung along up the road. Presently 
Willie began to tire, and his whistle ceased. 

“ Hi,” called Peanut, “ the band’s gin out ! ” 

“ Walker ! ” shouted the scout-master, “ whistle 1 
I told you to whistle till you were ordered to 
stop.” 

“ I ain’t got no breath,” grinned Willie, sheep- 
ishly. 

“ Say, ‘ I haven’t any breath.’ ” 

“ I haven’t got n-any breath,” said Willie. 

“ Now whistle without it,” said Mr. Rogers, sternly, 
though he winked at Peanut while he spoke. 

Willie began to whistle again. 

“ Willie can’t talk while he whistles,” said Dennis 
O’Brien. 

“ Poor Willie ! ” cried Peanut. 

Willie looked back, grinning, but he kept on 
whistling. When his breath really began to fail, the 
scout-master called out, “ Patrol, halt. Band cease. 
Break ranks.” 

Willie gave a shrill scream of joy. “ Some drum 
and fife corps, I am ! ” he said 

The road had been taking the boys steadily up, 
through second growth timber, and beside a rushing 
brook. The morning was growing warm, and the 
boys were thirsty. They started for the brook. 

“ Hold on ! ” cried the scout-master. “ Do you 


20 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


know whether there are any houses above on this 
brook ? ” 

The boys shook their heads. 

“Then don’t drink the water,” said Mr. Rogers. 

“ Why not ? ” asked Harold Pratt. 

“ One of the first things for a scout to remember,” 
Mr. Rogers explained, “ is never to drink water, nor 
let anybody else drink it, which may be tainted. 
One of the worst diseases is typhoid fever, and that 
almost always comes from tainted water or milk. It 
is a disease caused by a little germ in the intestines, 
and if a person has this disease, and the refuse from 
his body, instead of being burned, should go into a 
drain, and the drain should empty into a brook like 
this one, everybody who drank the water could 
catch typhoid fever, too. When you drink brook 
water, you must be sure there are no drains empty- 
ing into it above you. Water that comes out of 
springs is safer, because the ground filters it.” 

“ What do you do when there’s no spring ? ” asked 
two or three of the boys. 

“ Always boil the water, then,” the man answered. 
“ If water is heated enough to boil, the heat kills all 
germs. It should always be the rule of a scout, 
When in doubt about the purity of water , boil itP 

“ I guess we’ll come to a spring soon,” said Arthur 
Bruce, putting his cup back in his belt. 

“ I’m goin’ to drink anyhow,” said Willie Walker. 


THE CHIPMUNKS’ FIRST HIKE 


21 


“No, you’re not,” cried two of the boys. “You 
obey orders ! ” 

“ That’s the stuff,” cried Rob, the patrol leader. 
“ Forward march.” 

The boys set out again up the road. Presently 
they came to a spring on the bank, gushing through 
a pipe into a wooden horse trough. “ Is this all 
right?” they asked. 

“ What do you think?” said the scout-master. 

The boys looked beyond the spring up the slope 
of the hill. There were no houses to the top. 
“ Sure 1 ” they cried, and plunged their dippers under 
the pipe. 

The road now wound through a gap in the hills, 
and was comparatively level for a way. 

“ We’ll go scout pace,” said Mr. Rogers. 

“ What’s that ? ” asked some of the boys. 

“I know!” cried Peanut. “It’s in the ‘Manual.’ 
It’s fifty paces dog trot, and fifty paces walk.” 

“ That’s right,” said Rob, who had also read the 
scout “ Manual.” “ And you’ve got to do a mile in 
twelve minutes that way to be a second-class scout.” 

“That’s one of the things you’ve got to do,” 
smiled Mr. Rogers. “ All ready, now. Don’t try to 
keep in line. Each boy for himself.” 

He set off at a gentle dog trot, with short steps so 
that he would not tire the little fellows, counting his 
paces aloud. The rest followed after. At fifty 


22 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


paces he dropped into a walk, and walked fifty 
paces ; then trotted again, then walked. After a 
few times, every one ceased counting, for it became 
easy and natural to trot about so far, then walk 
about so far, then trot again. The stronger boys 
were soon ahead of the others, though little Peanut, 
his knapsack bobbing on his back, was right up 
with the leaders. They were all panting. 

“ Gee ! ” cried Peanut between puffs, “ you do get 
over the ground this way ! ” 

“ Good scouts can keep it up all day,” said Mr. 
Rogers. 

“Whew!” said Peanut. “Well,” he added 
bravely, “ I guess I could — if I had to.” 

They had gone perhaps half a mile, and were all 
pretty hot, when somebody called out, “ Hi, where’s 
Lou Merritt ? ” 

Everybody looked back. In the rear Arthur 
Bruce and Frank Nichols, both slow runners, were 
puffing along, sticking to the pace, but Lou was no- 
where in sight. 

“ Shall I go back for him ? ” asked Rob. 

“ Perhaps you’d better,” said the scout-master. 
“ Halt your squad.” 

“ Patrol, halt ! ” said Rob. “ Peanut, you come 
back with me.” 

“ Surest thing you know,” said Peanut, fresh as a 
daisy. 


THE CHIPMUNKS’ FIRST HIKE 


23 


The two boys disappeared round the bend of the 
road Presently they came back with Lou between 
them. 

“ He says he has a stitch in his side, sir,” said Rob. 

“ Well, I have,” Lou whined. “ I get ’em all the 
time. I can’t run like that.” 

The scout-master looked at him sharply, and the 
boy averted his eyes. “ Didn’t I see you running 
around the square down at the village the other 
night ? ” he asked. 

“ I didn’t have no pain then,” said the boy. 

“ Aw, he ain’t got none now,” said Willie Walker. 

“ That’s a lie,” retorted Lou. 

Rob, the patrol leader, and two of the boys, before 
the scout-master could say a word, cried, “ Hi, stop 
that kind of talk ! That doesn’t go in the scouts.” 

“ That’s right, boys,” said Mr. Rogers. “ That 
doesn’t go in the scouts. We don’t swear, and we 
won’t have any boys that do. I guess you’d better 
beg our pardons, Lou, for that word.” 

“ Well, it is a lie,” Lou half whimpered. 

“ We’ll attend to that later. First, you beg our 
pardons for the cuss word.” 

“ I — I’m sorry,” said Lou. 

“ Good. And now, look me in the face ! Do you 
swear on your honor as a scout that you have a 
stitch in your side, so that you can’t obey orders and 
go scout pace ? ” 


24 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Lou raised his eyes to the man’s. “ Yes,” he 
said. 

Mr. Rogers turned to Willie Walker. “ Lou has 
sworn on his honor as a scout, Willie,” he said ; 
“ you’d better take back the lie.” 

“ Aw, he’s fooling yer. I know Lou,” replied 
Willie. 

“ We’ve put him on his honor as a scout,” the 
man said, seriously. “ It’s up to you to show 
yours. Scouts always trust the word of their 
fellows.” 

“ All right,” said Willie. “ Sorry, Lou ; take it 
back.” 

The other boy made no reply, shifting his eyes. 
Mr. Rogers looked at him, puzzled and frowning. 
The march was resumed, without formation now, 
each boy walking at his own gait along the road, 
which was getting steeper and rougher. 

“ How far have we been? ” asked Dennis O’Brien, 
taking off his hat and mopping his forehead. 

Mr. Rogers took a pedometer from the fob pocket 
of his trousers. “ Five miles,” he said. 

“What’s that thing?” asked Peanut. “Looks 
like a watch.” 

“A pedometer,” the man replied. He shook it 
and the boys heard a click inside. “You see, every 
time I take a step, the weight inside is bobbed up 
once, and that moves the needle on the dial face just 


THE CHIPMUNKS' FIRST HIKE 


25 


so far. Now, my step is twenty-eight inches long, 
and the works are adjusted to that length step, so 
that when I have taken 2,262 steps, the dial registers 
one mile.” 

“ Wow,” said Willie. “ Do I take 2,262 steps a 
mile?” 

“You take more,” said the scout-master, “because 
your step is shorter than mine.” 

“ It makes me tired,” the boy laughed. “ Ain’t we 
most there?” 

“ Say, I’m hungry; let’s eat now ! ” put in Harold 
Pratt. 

“ Aw, Prattie’s always hungry,” said Peanut. 
“ Come on to the top. How much farther is it ? ” 

“ About a mile,” laughed Mr. Rogers. “ I guess 
we’ll go to the top, and find a place to camp for 
lunch. We’ve got to have a spring, you know.” 

“Say, when are we going to do the tracking ? ” 
asked Arthur Bruce. “ That’ll be the fun ! ” 

“ After lunch. Forward march ! ” 

The road was now going up sharp. Another 
quarter of a mile, and it came out of the woods into 
what looked like a level clearing. The hemlocks, 
behind and all around, a little lower than this clear- 
ing, stretched for miles like a green sea. There was 
no sign of a mountain, except a bit of a hill off to the 
left, and no house except, far away, a single group 
of buildings which had once been occupied by the 


26 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


millionaire who had owned this whole vast extent of 
upland forest as a game preserve. 

“ Is this a mountain ? ” said one of the boys. 
“Don’t look much like it to me.” 

“It’s really a great upland plateau,” said Mr. 
Rogers. “ Wait till you see the view.” 

They now struck off the road toward the hill, 
walking rapidly through the hemlocks. Willie 
Walker was no longer chattering. 

“What’s the matter with Willie?” shouted Dennis 
O’Brien. “ He’s so still 1 ” 

Willie grinned, rather sheepishly. 

“ Aw, he’s tired ! ” said Peanut, scornfully. “ I 
ain’t tired !” 

Whereupon, to show that he wasn’t, he began to 
climb a tree. 

“ Fall in ! ” shouted Rob. 

Peanut scrambled down again, and ran to his place, 
grinning cheerfully. 

A few moments more, and they began to scramble 
up the hill. Suddenly they came out into another 
clearing, and, turning back, looked out over the 
green sea of the hemlocks, down through a gorge 
up which the road had brought them, and so across 
a great space of hills huddled fainter and fainter into 
the distance, till on the horizon they saw a long line 
of blue domes and pyramids, lying almost like a 
cloud. 


THE CHIPMUNKS’ FIRST HIKE 


27 


“ The Catskills 1 ’’ cried the scout-master. 

“Those blue things way over there?" asked 
Peanut. “ How far away are they ? " 

“ Maybe forty or fifty miles." 

“ Come on, let’s walk there," said Willie, with one 
of his shrill laughs. 

“ Willie’s gettin’ rested," remarked Dennis 
O’Brien. 

The scout-master noticed that Lou Merritt was 
looking in silence at the far-off blue mountains. He 
went over and put his hand on the lad’s shoulder. 
“ What are you thinking about, Lou ?’’ he said. 

“ Them mountains is where Rip Van Winkle went," 
said the boy, in a shamefaced kind of way. “ I was 
thinkin’ about him sleepin’ up there, and the little 
men playin’ nine-pins." 

Mr. Rogers patted him kindly. “ Those are the 
mountains," he replied. “ Perhaps some day we 
can take a long hike over to them. I’m glad you 
thought of old Rip when you saw them. None of 
the other boys did." 

Lou lifted his face to the man’s with a look of 
gratitude, and colored. The man patted his shoulder 
again and turned away. 

“ There’s a lot of good in that boy," he thought to 
himself. “ He’s got imagination. Why is he a 
sneak ? How can we cure him ? ’’ 

You see it isn’t always easy to be a scout-master. 


28 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ And now,” he cried aloud, “ lunch ! Rob, send 
your men down the hill in different directions to find 
a spring. The first boy who finds a good one, or a 
clear brook, whistle three times.” 

“ Lunch ! ” yelled Willie Walker and Harold Pratt, 
leaping up from the grass where they had thrown 
themselves. “ Wow ! ” 

Eight boys vanished like so many rabbits down 
the hill into the woods. Mr. Rogers watched them 
go with a smile. Then he followed, in a slightly 
different direction, for he knew where the spring 
was. 


CHAPTER II 
The First Camp-Fire 


HE spring came out from under a rock in 



A the hemlocks, and trickled away in a tiny 
stream through the moss. The scout-master soon 
reached it and sat down to wait. He heard the boys 
shouting out in the woods. Presently he heard the 
crash of dead twigs near by, and saw Arthur Bruce 
coming up the tiny trickle of the brook, head down, 
evidently searching for a pool large enough to dip 
water from. Mr. Rogers slipped behind a tree. The 
boy came to the spring, took one look, and, thrusting 
his fingers into his mouth, blew three shrill blasts. 

“Good work, Arthur,” said the scout-master, step- 
ping from behind his tree. 

Arthur grinned, pleased. The other boys were 
soon heard coming, and in a few minutes they were 
all gathered in. 

“ Who found it? ” asked Frank Nichols. 

“ Arthur,” said Mr. Rogers. “ I knew where it 
was. How’d you do it, Arthur?” 

“ Why,” said the boy, “ I looked over the country 
from the hill before we started, and saw where the 
lowest ground was. I thought a brook would be 


30 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

there, of course, if it was anywhere. When I found 
the brook, it was too small and muddy, so I followed 
it up to the spring.” 

“ That’s good woodcraft, Arthur,” said the scout- 
master. “ Now for the fires. Boys, before you can 
be second-class scouts, each one of you has got to 
make a fire, using only two matches. Everybody 
select a spot and try it. We’ll cook on the best fire. 
Arthur, do you know how to make the stone back- 
ing?” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Bruce. 

“ Well, you show the rest. Here 1 here are two 
matches apiece for you.” 

The boys took their matches, and scurried around 
for loose stones. They each arranged their stones 
so as to form a kind of box, with one end open and 
no cover, eight inches high, a foot wide, and eighteen 
inches long. 

“ Shouldn’t the open end be turned toward the 
wind ? ” asked Rob. 

“ Sure,” said Arthur Bruce, who, unlike most of 
the other boys, lived out on the edge of the village 
and was already, at thirteen, a good woodsman. “ It 
makes a draught.” 

Some of the fire pits were well made, some were 
pretty careless. Willie Walker couldn’t make his 
stand up. 

“ Humph,” said Peanut, tugging at a stone half as 


THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 


3i 


heavy as himself. “ Your rocks are too little.” 
Peanut’s oven was entirely made of three pieces, 
propped against one another, and was the best of 
the lot. 

Their ovens made, the boys began to gather fuel. 
Peanut and Arthur Bruce went to a birch tree and 
peeled off some dry bark, placing it at the bottom, 
then, on top of that, they laid small dead twigs from 
the hemlocks, and on top of that, in a kind of 
pyramid, larger dead sticks, which they cut neatly 
with Arthur’s axe, sharing it by turns. Carefully 
shielding their matches, they each touched off the 
birch bark, and each had a fire crackling without 
using the second match at all. The other boys 
tried to use dead grass or leaves for the first kin- 
dlings, and some of them had damp wood. Two 
or three, in their eagerness to get their fires 
lighted first, broke the first match while scratching 
it, and the wind blew out Willie Walker’s second 
match, so he got no fire at all. 

“ What would you do, Willie, if you were all alone 
in the woods on a cold night, and had only two 
matches ? ” asked the scout-master. “ Wouldn’t you 
be more careful ? ” 

Willie grinned. “ I'll always carry a whole box,” 
he said. But he asked for a third match, and care- 
fully shielding that in his hat, he got his light 
finally. 


3 2 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Rob and Mr. Rogers walked around the ring of 
eight fires. “Arthur’s and Peanut’s fire pits are 
both better than mine,” said the leader. “ I think 
Peanut has the best oven because it’s strongest. 
You could stand a heavy kettle across it.” 

“ Peanut wins, ” agreed the scout-master. “ Other 
fires out ! ” 

The boys sprang with their dippers to the pool, 
and soon had the fires extinguished. 

“ Now shall we cook ? ” they cried, gathering 
round Peanut’s fire. 

Arthur Bruce looked scornful. “We gotter have 
a bed of coals first,” he said. 

“ Of course,” Mr. Rogers added. “ You can’t 
cook over a flame like that ; it would merely burn 
your food up, and the heat’s not steady enough, 
either. But your fire’s all hemlock now, Peanut. 
You want hard wood to make good coals.” 

The boys scattered on the search for hard wood, 
and soon brought back some faggots of dead oak 
and maple, which they stacked on the fire. After 
fifteen minutes of impatient waiting, the sticks had 
settled down below the rim of stones, into a glowing 
bed of coals. 

“ Now cook ! ” cried Rob 

The boys dove into their knapsacks. Some had 
lamb chops, some bacon. There were two or three 
small loaves of bread, little papers of salt and butter, 


THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 


33 

and fruit. The boys who had frying-pans soon had 
their bacon sizzling over the coals. 

“ But how are we going to cook the chops ? ” cried 
Willie. 

“ Will somebody lend me a frying-pan ?” from two 
or three at once. 

“ Say, do you cook these things in your fingers ? ” 

“ Ouch ! ” 

“ Wow ! that fire’s hot ! ” 

There was an uproar round the little blaze. 

“ I know how,” said Arthur. He whipped out a 
big knife, took a green stick and slit the end like a 
clothes-pin, stuck the end of the chop bone into the 
slit, where the green wood held it like a vise, and 
had his chop sizzling above the coals in a jiffy. 

“ Hi, great head ! Don’t it hurt to be so smart ? 
Lend me your toad stabber,” shouted Willie, all in 
one breath. 

He and Lou and Frank Nichols and Dennis 
O’Brien all followed suit, and in two minutes five or 
six lamb chops, on the ends of sticks, were sizzling 
above the fire. Willie’s fell off into the coals. “ I 
don’t care,” he shouted, as he fastened in another 
chop, “ that lamb had a lot more ribs ! ” 

“ My, that’s good ! ” exclaimed Frank Nichols, 
later, as he tossed the bare bone into the embers, 
and wiped his greasy fingers on the moss. 

“ Um, um ! you bet ! ” said Peanut, his mouth 


34 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


emerging from behind his chop long enough to 
speak, and disappearing again. 

“ Look out, Peanut, you’ll muss your ears,” sang 
Willie. But Peanut was too busy to reply. 

When the lunch was over, which all the boys 
agreed was as good a one as they ever ate, and the 
few frying pans and knives scoured and the debris 
of bones, fruit skins and papers all put on the fire 
and burned — “a good scout always cleans up his 
camp as clean as his mother’s kitchen,” Mr. Rogers 
told the boys — they threw on a little fresh wood just 
to see the blaze, and sat in a ring for the scout-mas- 
ter’s talk. 

It wasn’t a long talk. “ Boys,” he said, “ you are 
all tenderfeet now. The first thing to do is for you 
all to get uniforms, and the next for you all to qualify 
as second-class scouts. The Crow and Eagle Patrols 
are bigger than you, but they aren’t any smarter. 
You want to be second-class scouts as soon as they 
are, don’t you ? ” 

“You bet !” came from the ring. 

“Now about uniforms. We want every boy to 
earn his uniform. Then he’ll feel it is really his, 
that he’s done something to get it. Arthur and 
Peanut and Rob and Dennis have theirs. Lou, how 
are you going to earn yours ? ” 

Lou looked uncomfortable. “ I dunno,” he said. 

“ He’s an orphan, lives with the Smiths. I guess 


THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 


35 

they make him buy his school clothes with all he 
earns,” Rob whispered in the scout-master’s ear. 

Mr. Rogers looked grave. He began to under- 
stand. “ Well, you come round to my house next 
week, Lou,” he said, “ and we’ll talk it over. Now, 
Frank, how are you going to earn yours ? ” 

“ Caddying,” said Frank. 

“ Me, too,” said Harold Pratt. 

“ Til make my father give me the money,” said 
Willie, with his shrill laugh. 

“ No, you won’t, because I’ll tell him not to,” 
laughed Mr. Rogers, in reply. “ That wouldn’t be 
earning it. Come, how are you going to earn it ? ” 

“ I’ll caddy, too, I guess,” said Willie. 

“All right. Now, in two weeks, if you boys will 
bring Rob the money — $3.50 — for your suits, or as 
much of it as you can earn in that time, he’ll have 
’em for you, and we’ll all be dressed right on our 
next hike. Now, for the second-class scout require- 
ments. Let’s read what they are.” 

The scout-master took one of the “ Manuals ” from 
his pocket, and read as follows : 

To become a second-class scout, a tenderfoot must 
pass, to the satisfaction of the recognized local scout 
authorities, the following tests : 

1. At least one month’s service as a tenderfoot. 

2. Elementary first aid and bandaging ; know 
the general directions for first aid for injuries ; know 


36 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

treatment for fainting, shock, fractures, bruises, 
sprains, injuries in which the skin is broken, burns, 
and scalds; demonstrate how to carry injured and 
the use of the triangular and roller bandages and 
tourniquet. 

3. Elementary signaling : know the semaphore, 
or American Morse, or Myer alphabet. 

4. Track half a mile in twenty- five minutes ; or, 
if in town, describe satisfactorily the contents of one 
store window out of four observed for one minute 
each. 

5. Go a mile in twelve minutes at scout’s pace — 
about fifty steps running and fifty walking, alter- 
nately. 

6. Use properly knife or hatchet. 

7. Prove ability to build a fire in the open, using 
not more than two matches. 

8. Cook a quarter of a pound of meat and two 
potatoes in the open without the ordinary kitchen 
cooking utensils. 

9. Earn and deposit at least one dollar in a 
public bank. 

10. Know the sixteen principal points of the 
compass. 

“Jumpin’ Jiminy!” said Willie Walker, “ hev I 
got to know all them things ? ” 

“ All those things, Willie,” Mr. Rogers corrected. 

Willie grinned. “ All those things,” he said. 
“ What’s that turny-something ? ” 

“ You’ll find out in time. Dr. Henderson will 
teach you first aid, and you’ll find it lots of fun. 
You’ll soon learn how to fix yourselves up when 


THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 


37 


you’re hurt, and you’ll all be prepared to help any- 
body else that gets hurt. I tell you, there aren’t 
many grown men who’ll know as much about first 
aid as you boys will in six months ! ” 

“Wow! ” cried Peanut, tossing up his hat enthu- 
siastically! 

“ I’m going to teach you the signaling. That 
will be easy and lots of fun. You’ll be able to talk 
to each other from two hills a mile apart, without a 
telephone. Some of the other things most of you 
could do right now. Everybody but Willie made 
his fire with two matches to-day, and everybody but 
Lou was going the mile at scout pace well under 
twelve minutes.” 

Willie and Lou looked rather shamefaced, and 
said nothing. 

“And now we’ll try the tracking,” Mr. Rogers 
finished. “ First, what shall we do with the fire ? ” 

“ Put it out ! ” sang the boys. 

“ Correct. A good scout always regards it as his 
solemn duty to put out every fire before he leaves it, 
and to be sure it’s stone dead. If you leave one 
spark behind, it may be enough to set the woods on 
fire.” 

The boys piled to the spring with their dippers, 
and soused the embers till they were black and dead. 
Then Mr. Rogers took a pair of ice-creepers from his 
pocket and clamped them on the heels of his boots. 


38 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ You see,” he explained, “ every step I take drives 
these spikes into the ground and leaves a mark. If 
I scuff, it makes scratches. Now take a good look.” 
He walked a few paces, scuffing. The trail was 
plain on the moist, dark forest soil. 

“Now,” he said, “I'll start off, and go a mile by 
my pedometer. Rob, you have a watch. Give me 
ten minutes' start, and then you all follow. See if 
you can find me in twenty-five minutes.” 

He disappeared into the woods. The boys waited 
impatiently, Rob’s eyes on his watch. After what 
seemed at least an hour, Rob said, “ Go ! ” and like 
a pack of dogs on the scent, the scouts, eyes to the 
ground, started. 

It was not as easy work tracking as they had ex- 
pected. They would pick up the trail plainly for a 
hundred feet or so, and then it would seem to vanish 
entirely. 

“Spread out, spread out!” Rob commanded. 
“ As soon as anybody picks up a track, holler, and 
let the rest go there, and begin again.” 

The boys spread out like a fan through the woods. 
Every minute or two somebody would give a cry, 
and the rest would run to him, examine the prick or 
scratch which he had found, decide whether it was 
a genuine track, and then move ahead on the new 
clue. The scout-master had evidently zigzagged. 
Sometimes he had walked on pine-needles, leaving 


THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 


39 


no tracks for a rod or two. Finally the trail led up 
to a great wire fence, fifteen feet high, running 
through the woods. 

“ Must be the fence to hold in the moose and 
buffalo that used to be kept up here,” said Rob. “ Is 
the trail on the other side ? ” 

Peanut was already half-way up the wire mesh like 
a monkey. Dropping to the other side, he gave a 
yell. The other boys followed him over, picked up 
the trail, and plunged down a slope into a swampy 
piece of woods. Every now and then they would 
find a clear footprint in the dark loam, with the prick 
of the creepers under the heel. Shouting and hurry- 
ing, eyes to the ground, they suddenly came upon 
the scout-master, hiding behind a tree. 

“ Time, Rob ? ” he cried. 

The patrol leader pulled out his watch. “ Twenty- 
three minutes,” he said. 

“ Good work, boys ; beat the requirements by two 
minutes,” exclaimed Mr. Rogers. “ You see it isn’t 
so hard.” 

“ Gee, that’s fun ! ” said Peanut. 

“Just like Indians !” cried Dennis O’Brien. 

“ What I don’t see,” said Rob, “ is how the 
Indians tracked anybody who wore moccasins, 
though. Sometimes even your iron creepers didn’t 
leave any mark.” 

“ Ho,” said Peanut, “ they had lots o’ practice ! ” 


4 o THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ That’s about the size of it, Peanut,” Mr. Rogers 
replied. “See, I’ll step a way without the creepers.” 
He took off the irons, and walked for twenty or 
thirty feet. “ Now look closely where I stepped.” 

The boys kneeled down. “ Here’s a place where 
I can see some grass crushed down, sir,” said Lou. 

“ Here’s a mark on the bare soil,” said another 
boy. 

“ Wow,” cried Willie, “ I’d hate to follow that 
trail, though, a mile in twenty-five minutes ! ” 

“ Prattie could do it, if his supper was at the other 
end,” sang out Peanut. 

“Aw, could I?” said Harold Pratt, as the other 
boys laughed. 

Just then Arthur Bruce, who was at one side, gave 
a cry. “ Look here ! ” he shouted. 

The rest gathered round. 

“ What is it?” 

“ What yer found ? ” 

“ Let me see ! ” 

“ Deer track ! ” said Arthur. 

Sure enough, in the soft ground was the double 
print of a deer hoof. 

The boys began to search farther. Soon they 
found more tracks, and finally a spot in the mud 
where the ground was thick with them. 

“ Looks almost like a path,” said Rob. “ This place 
must be full of deer. I wish we had a gun.” 


THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 


4i 


“Lots of good it would do you in this state/’ 
answered Arthur. “My! I’d like to go into the big 
woods some place where they’ll let you shoot ’em ! 
Father’s got a Winchester and I can shoot it, but 
there’s nothing to use it on round here.” 

“ Maybe we’ll meet a wildcat some day, and you 
can shoot at that, Art,” said Peanut hopefully. 

“ Aw, Art couldn’t hit one if it stood in front of 
him and said please,” shrilled Willie. 

“ I could hit you, though,” replied Arthur with a 
laugh, making a dive for Willie and landing him a 
punch in the stomach. Willie knew he was no 
match for the smaller boy at boxing, for Arthur was 
one of those slow, deliberate lads who box by instinct, 
guarding carefully and using their heads. Willie 
laughed and ducked away. 

“Willie’s feelin’ good again after lunch,” said 
Dennis. 

“No, Mr. Rogers, you ain’t taken it out of him 
yet, like you said you would,” said Peanut, with a 
mischievous twinkle in his big eyes. 

“ All right,” laughed the scout-master, “ I’ll take 
it out of all of you. Come on, Rob, start us home.” 

The boys scrambled back over the high moose 
fence, their knapsacks bobbing on their backs, like 
soldiers storming an entrenchment, and were soon 
back on the road toward home. 

“ Double quick, Rob ! ” whispered Mr. Rogers. 


42 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ Squad, fall in ! Double quick, march ! ” 

The boys swung down the road, keeping step as 
best they could. Soon they were panting, and the 
ranks were straggling back. 

“ Close up ranks ! ” shouted Rob. 

“ Hi 1 ” puffed Willie. “ I left my wind behind. 
Please may I go back and get it ? ” 

Lou Merritt had already dropped back, and was 
holding on to his side, though he still trotted. Only 
Peanut, gritting his teeth and grinning, made no 
complaint. 

“ Squad halt 1 ” said Rob, finally. 

The patrol dropped to the grass, puffing. But 
there was only a moment’s rest. “ Let’s play we’ve 
got to get news of the enemy to town this afternoon,” 
said Rob. “ Forward march ! ” 

After a mile of walking, he gave another order. 
“Free formation, scout pace, forward march 1” 

The boys all started again on the trot for fifty 
paces, dropping down to a rapid walk, then hitting 
up a trot again — all but Lou Merritt. He put his 
hand on his side and kept on walking. 

“ Lou’s got another stitch,” sang out Peanut. 

The scout-master looked back. “ We’ll let him 
follow as best he can,” said he. Just then the forward 
boys spied, around a bend of the road, the spring 
where they had drunk in the morning. “The 
spring ! ” they yelled, and started forward on the 


THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 43 

dead run. Lou heard them and started running, 
too. 

Mr. Rogers caught him by the shoulder as he 
came up. “ No, you don’t ! ” he said sternly. “ If 
you have a pain in your side, cold water’s the worst 
thing you can drink. No water for you. How does 
it happen you’re able to run all of a sudden ? ” 

The boy colored and averted his face. 

“ I’m afraid he’s fooling,” said Rob. 

“ Trying to dodge orders, eh ? ” said the scout- 
master. “ When you took the scout oath, didn’t you 
swear to obey orders ? ” 

“ I have got a pain, honest I have ! ” said Lou. 

“ Look me in the face and say that again ! ” 

“Well, I’m hot an’ tired, an’ it’s too hard work 
running this way,” the boy whined, with averted eyes. 

“The others are doing it, aren’t they? Little 
Peanut, who’s not much more than half your size, 
hasn’t kicked, has he ? Scouts hate a quitter. Now 
you run with us.” 

“ Forward march ! ” said Rob. “ Scout pace.” 

The boys slung their dippers on their belts once 
more and set out, Lou Merritt with them, casting 
one longing glance back at the spring. 

“ Quitter Lou, quitter Lou,” taunted Willie. 

“ Silence ! ” the scout-master commanded him. 
“ Lou’s not a quitter now. He’s coming right on. 
He’ll keep up with you, see if he doesn’t.” 


44 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Lou grew red, and gritted his teeth. “You bet I 
will ! ” he muttered. 

“ That’s the stuff, Lou,” said Mr. Rogers. 

The pace kept up. The boys grew silent. Even 
Willie had better use for his breath than talking. 
When the order came to halt they all flopped down 
on the grass. The scout-master consulted his pedom- 
eter. “ Only two miles more,” he said. “ Every- 
body wash his feet in the brook.” 

“ Gee, I’d like to get in all over ! ” cried Peanut. 

“ We’ll go where we can have a swim next time,” 
said Rob, “ won’t we, Mr. Rogers ? ” 

“Why must we wash our feet?” asked Frank 
Nichols. 

“So that they won’t be sore,” the scout -master 
replied. “ If you wash your feet in cold water two 
or three times on a long hike, drying them thor- 
oughly before you put your boots on again, it helps to 
prevent blisters and soreness. That’s a good thing 
to remember. But be sure to have your feet ab- 
solutely dry, especially between your toes, before 
you put your stockings on again.” 

The boys were quickly splashing in the brook. 
The last two miles were made at a brisk walk, and 
it was a weary and subdued lot of scouts who rode 
back on the trolley to Southmead. But they marched 
in good order up the village street to their club 
house, and disbanded to their homes. 


THE FIRST CAMP-FIRE 


45 

As Lou was going, the scout-master put a hand 
on his shoulder. 

“ Remember,” he said, “ to come to see me next 
week. I want to have a talk with you.” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Lou, and went away with his 
head down. 

The last thing Mr. Rogers heard was the voice of 
Peanut, greeting some friend. “ Hi, Bill,” he was 
saying, “ you oughter be a scout. Clear to the top 
of October Mountain to-day.” 

Bill’s remark the scout-master couldn’t hear. But 
Peanut’s reply came to him plainly. 

“ Tired ? Naw ! Could ’a’ gone twice as far.” 

Mr. Rogers smiled. “ Sandy as a terrier, that 
boy,” he said to himself. 


CHAPTER III 


The Scout House is Robbed 
HERE were three patrols in the Southmead 



X troop, the Chipmunks, the Crows, and the 
Woodchucks. The Chipmunks, as we have seen, 
were the smaller boys. The Crows were eight boys 
of about fifteen or sixteen years, who were in size and 
strength midway between the smallest patrol and the 
Woodchucks. The Crow leader was Ted Bolton, 
known as the Teddy Bear. The eight boys in the 
Woodchucks were from sixteen to eighteen — the age 
limit of scouts. They were country boys, used to 
fresh air and work, and were big and strong for their 
ages. Their leader was Joe Donovan, who would 
be a senior in the local high school the next autumn. 
He was a serious, hard-working lad, who helped his 
mother support her large family by acting as a me- 
chanic during the long vacation on the estate of one 
of the summer residents. Joe had the true Irish 
quickness of wit, however, for all his seriousness, 
and quickness of body, too. He did everything 
well, from his Latin in school to baseball. The 
teacher could always rely on him for a good recita- 
tion, and the baseball team for a safe hit. Naturally 


THE SCOUT HOUSE IS ROBBED 47 

he was popular with the boys, which was why they 
elected him leader of the Woodchuck Patrol. 

The Scout House was not an elegant building. 
Indeed, you could just about call it a building, and 
that was all you could say for it. It stood down be- 
hind the Congregational parsonage, and had been 
used for a church Boys’ Club twenty years before. 
It hadn’t been used since. There were only two 
rooms in it, one a smallish room in front, with a big 
wood stove, a long, pine table, and one chair with a 
broken back, the other a large room behind, twenty- 
five feet by twenty-five, extending up to the rafters, 
and once used as a gymnasium. There were still 
two flying rings and a rope for climbing suspended 
from the roof. There were also two baskets for 
basket-ball in opposite corners, but of course the 
room was too small for a real game. 

This was the only building in the village, however, 
available for a Scout House, and the nearest thing 
to a gymnasium. Like so many small towns, South- 
mead had no game hall for its boys and girls, not 
even a gymnasium in the high school building. 
The men and women of Southmead were very proud 
of their trees on the village street, and gave lots of 
money to keep their sidewalks neat, and found lots 
of fault if the boys played tag on the village square 
after supper ; but they didn’t seem to think the boys 
needed a place to play, especially in the long winter 


48 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

evenings. They didn’t seem to feel that boys were 
as important as the trees and sidewalks. 

But the boy scouts made the best of their rickety 
little club house. Scouts are supposed to be cheer- 
ful, anyhow, and to make the best of things. They 
had electric lights put in, and each boy paid fifteen 
cents a month dues, to meet the cost of the elec- 
tricity. The church gave them the use of the build- 
ing. They had a lock put on the door, hung their 
patrol banners on the walls, got a basket-ball, and 
held meetings every Monday night. 

There were, of course, twenty-four boys in the 
scouts, as there were three full patrols. But there 
were many more boys in the village. The scout- 
master hoped soon to enlist another patrol. A good 
many boys wanted to come in. But he didn’t want 
to take them till his first patrols had begun to learn 
the principles of scouting. So, every Monday night, 
there were signal practice, setting up exercises, 
marching drill, and games at the club house ; every 
Tuesday and Wednesday nights the boys went, in 
two divisions, to Dr. Henderson for instruction in 
first aid ; and usually on Saturdays and Sundays (on 
Sundays for the Woodchucks, because several of them 
had to work on other days) came hikes and tracking 
expeditions and scout games. 

The semaphore signaling was taught by Mr. 
Rogers and a man who had been in the Naval 


THE SCOUT HOUSE IS ROBBED 49 

Militia during the Spanish-American war, Mr. 
Robinson. He began first with a simple machine, 
just an upright post, three feet high, on a wooden 
base so that it could be stood anywhere, with two 
sticks, not quite so long as the post, fastened near 
the top, that could be worked like two arms. These 
arms projected some six inches beyond the nail 
which held them to the post, to afford handles. 

“ Did you know the first telegraph was really a 
machine much like this, on a big scale ?” asked Mr. 
Robinson. “ Napoleon used it first, long before the 
electric telegraph was invented. He built towers on 
hills, all across France, and on top of each tower was 
a big semaphore machine. The first tower started 
the message, and it went across France to the army 
on the frontier, not as fast, of course, as our telegrams 
go to-day, but very much faster than any horse could 
go. Of course there were not even railroads in 
Napoleon’s day, a hundred years ago, and his 
semaphore telegraph was a great time saver. The 
only trouble was that it couldn’t be used in foggy 
weather nor at night. But it was really the first 
system of sending messages long distances without 
a human messenger, nevertheless.” 

The principle of the semaphore is simple, and can 
best be understood by looking at the pictures of the 
different positions in the scout “ Manual.” Each let- 
ter of the alphabet is represented by a certain position 


50 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

of the two arms. Then there are certain positions 
to indicate “ numerals” (that is, “figures instead 
of letters are coming”), and certain signals mean- 
ing “ repeat ” (the letter R) or “ annul ” — that is, 
“ You haven’t got the last word right ; I’m going to 
send it again.” In army signaling, of course, the 
receiver signals as well as the sender, and repeats 
each word when he gets it, to make sure that the 
message is understood correctly. To learn to signal 
is largely a matter of practice. Once you have 
learned the twenty-six positions of the alphabet, 
you can signal as far as you can be seen, and the 
better you know the positions, the faster you can 
send. 

After the boys had mastered the alphabet with this 
semaphore machine, one boy working it at a corner 
of the big scout room, while another boy, at the 
opposite corner, told what he was spelling, Mr. 
Robinson brought several flags, two-foot squares of 
muslin with an eight-inch square of red in the 
centre, and gave two of these to Peanut, who had 
been quicker to master the alphabet than any of the 
others. 

“ Now, Lieutenant Peanut,” said he (at which the 
scouts roared), “ you hold a flag in either hand, and 
use your own arms to spell with, just as you would 
the arms of the machine. Don’t tell us what you’re 
going to send. Of course, in real signaling, you 


THE SCOUT HOUSE IS ROBBED 51 


use the flags. You don’t carry a machine around 
with you.” 

Peanut marched to his corner and began to 
signal. 

“ L-o-o-t-e-n-a-n-t P-e-a-n-u-t,” the scouts read off, 
aloud. 

“You signal better than you spell,” laughed Mr. 
Robinson. “You mean 1-i-e-u-t-e-n-a-n-t, don’t 
you?” 

“ Yes, sir, but it’s easier to spell it the other way,” 
said Peanut, with an amiable grin, though a little 
sheepish, while the scouts roared again. 

“ Now you try it, Walker,” the man said. “ Each 
boy spell his own name.” 

“ Guess I know how mine’s spelled,” said Willie. 

One by one the boys tried the signaling. Some 
were much more rapid than others. Arthur Bruce 
and Peanut, of the Chipmunks, were the most rapid, 
and made fewest mistakes. 

“They’ve been practicing,” said Prattie. 

“ Have you ? ” asked Mr. Robinson. 

“Sure,” said Peanut; “Arthur stands up on the 
hill by his barn mornings, and tells me with just his 
arms whether he’s goin’ fishin’.” 

“ Good for you,” said the teacher. “ I was going 
to explain next that in the woods and such places, 
when you have no flags, you can use just your arms. 
Of course, the flags are used for regular signaling 


52 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

because you can see them farther, and there’s less 
chance for mistakes. You chaps ought to see if you 
can send a message straight from one end of town to 
the other.” 

“ All right,” cried Peanut ; “ say, Rob, let’s do that 
to-morrow ? ” 

“ Fine,” said the Chipmunk Patrol leader. “ Every 
Chipmunk meet here at four o’clock.” 

“ We can do a little Morse alphabet, too, Mr. 
Robinson,” said Arthur Bruce. “ Peanut and I tried 
that on the water pipe in the Chews’ garden. We 
rapped with a stone, and sent a message from where 
the pipe comes out of the ground down to the lily 
bed.” 

“ Good ; you two ought to be in the service ! ” 
laughed Mr. Robinson. 

The signal practice over for the evening, the boys 
hung the signal flags, which the instructor presented 
to the club, up on the wall, passed a vote of thanks 
to the giver, got out their basket-ball, and fell to 
playing, till their shouts could be heard out in the 
village street. 

The next afternoon Peanut and Arthur Bruce were 
first at the Scout House. While they were waiting 
for Rob to come with the key, they strolled round 
the corner, and suddenly discovered that one of the 
windows was open, and a pane smashed. They 
hurried back to the door, tried it, and found it 


THE SCOUT HOUSE IS ROBBED 


53 


unlocked. They rushed into the house. The lock, 
a spring one, had been fixed so that it would not 
catch. Somebody had evidently broken a window- 
pane, unlatched the window, climbed in, unlatched 
the door, and fixed it to stay unlocked. The boys 
took a hurried look at the room. The signal 
flags, the patrol banners, the basket-ball, the sema- 
phore signal machine, were all gone, and the room 
was turned topsyturvy. With a howl of rage, they 
dashed out again, and began looking for tracks 
under the window. 

While they were searching, Rob and the other 
Chipmunks came up. 

“ What’s the matter ? ” they shouted. 

“Thieves !” said Peanut and Arthur in a breath. 
“ Rough-housed the whole place, and pinched every- 
thing ! ” 

With a cry of anger, some of the boys stormed 
into the club house. Others pressed around Peanut 
and Arthur. 

“ Hi, you fellows, get back ! ” Peanut shouted. 
“ Don’t tread here and spoil the tracks.” He shoved 
Willie Walker back, while Arthur went on searching. 

“ I’ve got it ! ” he said, excitedly. “ Look, Peanut, 
it’s a rubber heel mark ; see where the holes in the 
heel made little pimples on the ground ? ” 

“ Right-o ! ” said Peanut, kneeling over the spot. 

“ Well, Sherlock Holmes,” said Rob to Arthur, 


54 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“who wears rubber heels? We can’t trace these 
tracks out on the grass, certainly.” 

“ Who wears rubber heels ? ” 

“Who wears rubber heels?” 

The question flew round among the excited boys. 

“You mean sneakers?” said Willie. 

“ No,” cried Arthur, “those rubber heels you have 
screwed on leather shoes, like a regular heel, only 
rubber.” 

“ Gee, I don’t know anybody who wears them ,” 
said Prattie. 

“ I do ! ” said Lou Merritt. 

The boys turned on him. “ Who ? ” they shouted. 

“ Reggie Van Antwerp,” said Lou. “ I noticed him 
yesterday when I was taking up some wash there.” 

The boys looked at one another in silent astonish- 
ment for a moment. Reginald Van Antwerp was 
not one of the village boys, as you might guess from 
his name. He was the son of one of the summer 
residents from New York. His father was worth 
many millions, and the Van Antwerp estate crowned 
a hill over Southmead, with great gardens, green- 
houses, barns and a garage. The Van Antwerps 
had four motor cars, one of which was Reggie’s. 
Reggie never played with the village boys in the 
summer; they were not fashionable enough to please 
Reggie’s mother. Sometimes Reggie looked as if 
he’d like to play with them, however, if he had 


THE SCOUT HOUSE IS ROBBED 55 

known how to begin. But they never offered to let 
him play, because he seemed to belong to a different 
world from them, with his fine clothes and his motor 
car and pony cart. Besides, like a lot of boys who 
have been brought up to have everything they want, 
he was rather selfish and disagreeable, and the boys 
didn’t like him much. 

But he was the son of a millionaire, the richest 
man in Southmead. The Chipmunks could scarce 
believe that he would steal their flags and basket- 
ball. 

Rob spoke first, very seriously. “ Are you sure, 
Lou ? ” 

“ Sure,” said Lou. “ I noticed ’cause the heels 
were new, and showed up plain. He was sitting 
on the steps, with his feet out. There was another 
boy with him, a visitor, I guess.” 

“ Let’s go lick him, anyway ! ” yelled Willie, with 
his shrill laugh. 

“ Shut up ! ” commanded Rob. “ This is pretty 
serious. We’ve got to follow up the clue, anyhow. 
Prattie, Willie Walker, Frank Nichols and Lou — 
you go round to Mr. Rogers’ and to all the other 
scouts’ houses you can reach, on your wheels, if 
you’ve got wheels, and call a meeting for this even- 
ing. Peanut and Arthur and O’Brien and I’ll do 
some scouting round the Van Antwerp place. Lock 
the door, and come on.” 


56 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“Hadn’t we better take the size of that heel mark 
first?” said Arthur. 

“ Good for you ! Sure,” said Rob. 

Arthur placed a piece of paper over the print, care- 
fully cut it to the exact size, and gave it to Rob. 
Then the Chipmunks, carefully locking their rifled 
club house, scattered on their various ways, chatter- 
ing excitedly. 


CHAPTER IV 
Predatory Wealth 

R OB, Peanut, Arthur Bruce and Dennie stopped 
first at the parsonage to ask if any boys or 
men who were not scouts had been seen going into 
the club house. The minister and his wife had seen 
nobody. They were sure nobody had been in that 
day. The sack of the club must have been committed 
either the night before or in the very early morning. 
Failing of a clue here, the four boys made for the 
Van Antwerp estate on the hill. 

“When do you suppose they did it? ” said Peanut. 
“ We don’t know they did do it,” answered Rob. 
“ Whoever did it must have done it last night after 
our meeting, I guess. We can’t go right into 
Reggie’s place. We’ll go up back, by different ways, 
and sneak up on the house, and see what we can find 
out. Remember the whistle signals ! ” 

“ Say, this is real scouting ! ” cried Peanut glee- 
fully. 

When they reached the road before the Van Ant- 
werp estate, the four boys separated, two of them 
working round to the rear on one side, two on the 
other. 


57 


5 3 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Behind the house came the stables and conserva- 
tories, then there was a large formal garden, with a 
high wall about it save at the far end, where a 
hemlock hedge took the place of the wall. Beyond 
that was the vegetable garden, and beyond that 
again, a grove of pine woods, with walks through 
it, and stone benches — a beautiful bit of forest 
where Mr. Van Antwerp loved to stroll. The 
four scouts worked their way into this pine wood 
without seeing anybody, and met again. 

“ Now,” said Rob, “ we must get across the 
vegetable garden without being seen, and find out if 
there’s any one in the next garden. If there isn’t, 
we’ll go on to the stables.” 

The boys plunged in between the rows of young 
corn, which was just high enough to conceal them if 
they lay flat. They had gone a few steps when they 
saw a gardener coming through the hedge. Like a 
shot, they dropped on their faces between the rows. 
Peanut, peeping up, whispered, “ He didn’t see us ! 
He’s picking something. He’s going again.” 

“ Forward,” said Rob. 

In a moment the four were behind the hemlock 
hedge. Peanut, on his stomach, wriggled under and 
took a look into the formal garden. 

“ Nothing doing,” he whispered. “ No, wait ! 
Keep still 1 Keep still 1 ” 

The other boys tried to peer through the thick 


PREDATORY WEALTH 


59 


hedge. They did not dare go to the opening 
over the path for fear of being seen. But the 
hedge was too dense. Suddenly they heard the 
voice of Reggie. 

“ No/’ he was saying, “ this is A, with the right 
hand, so.” 

They fairly trembled with excitement. Peanut 
wriggled back, his face ablaze. 

“They are there!” he whispered. “ Reggie and 
another kid, and they’ve got the flags ! They’re 
tryin’ to signal. Shall we rush ’em ? ” 

“ Come on, an’ lick the life out of ’em ! ” cried 
Dennis, almost forgetting in his excitement to 
whisper. 

Rob grabbed his arm. “ No,” he commanded. 
“ We’ll capture ’em and try ’em to-night at the club 
house ! ” 

Again Dennis started, but Rob hung on. “ We 
can’t do it, just us four, without their putting up a 
holler and attracting help. Dennie, run as fast as 
you can back to the village and get the first two of 
the big fellers you can find and bring ’em back here. 
Go and come through the woods. We’ll keep 
watch.” 

“ Ah, we can take those softies ourselves ! ” said 
Dennis. 

“ Go, as I tell you ! ” said Rob. 

Dennis went back through the corn on the run, 


6o THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


and vanished in the woods. The other three boys 
wriggled on their stomachs under the hedge, and 
watched. It seemed hours before help came. They 
grew cramped and stiff, and it was very hot under 
the scratchy evergreens. Meanwhile Reggie and 
his friend, growing tired of trying to signal, took 
up the scouts’ basket-ball, and began to play with 
that on the grass around the garden pool. Presently 
it fell into the water, and Peanut, in his rage, uttered 
a little, smothered yell. 

Reggie and the other boy turned quickly at the 
sound. But, seeing nothing, and hearing no more, 
they fished the ball out with a laugh, and went on 
playing. 

At last the Chipmunks under the hedge heard 
steps behind them, and a low, soft whistle. They 
crept out. There was Dennis, hot and puffing, and 
two of the Woodchucks, Joe Rathbun and Milton 
Noble. 

Joe took command. “ Here’s a handkerchief for 
a gag, Milt,” he said. “ Here, Rob, is a heavy 
string. You two go along the wall and when you’re 
ready to rush in from the other end of the garden 
give a loud whistle. We’ll close in from this side. 
We’ve got to work quick. Grab ’em, gag ’em, get 
a rope round ’em, and make for the woods.” 

Rob and Milton sneaked quickly along the high 
wail outside the garden. The others waited by the 


PREDATORY WEALTH 


61 


break in the hedge. There came a quick whistle. 
There was a dash of scouts from both entrances of 
the garden. Before the astonished Reggie and his 
chum knew what had hit them, six scouts had closed 
in. The two Woodchucks had them round the arms 
and had clapped handkerchiefs over their mouths 
before they could shout for help, and the Chipmunks 
were winding cords around their legs and hands. 

“Quick, now, up with ’em I For the woods!” 
cried Joe. 

He and Rob and Arthur swung up Reggie by 
heels and head. The others took Reggie’s chum. 
They dashed through the vegetable garden and 
reached the woods without being seen. Then they 
kept on through the woods, across a swamp, to a 
back wood-road two miles from the village. There 
they rested and held a council of war. 

“ We can’t take ’em in to town now,” said Rob. 
“ We’d be seen.” 

Reggie, lying on the ground, began to make chok- 
ing noises under his gag. Dennis, walking over to 
him, lifted his foot to kick him. 

“ Hi, none of that ! ” called Joe. “ They’re prison- 
ers, and we’ll treat ’em right till the trial. Ease up 
his gag, Milt.” 

“ Why not take ’em down this road to the river,” 
said Arthur, “ and bring ’em in old Ben Carter’s 
boat down to the club house after dark? We can 


62 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


take 'em up the bank, through the willows, to the 
house without being seen.” 

“ Done 1 ” said Joe. “ Untie their legs. We’ll 
let ’em walk.” 

The two captives were led for a couple of miles 
through the woods to a wild spot on the river bank. 

“ I’ll get the boat,” said Arthur. 

“ Rob and I’ll stay guard, and bring ’em at eight 
o’clock,” said Joe. “ You kids go home to supper, 
and stop on the way and tell my mother and Rob’s 
that we’ll not be home. Tell ’em the club house was 
robbed and we’re on the clue. And don’t forget to 
bring some sandwiches or something to the club 
house to-night for us to eat !” 

The four boys disappeared, with a last triumphant 
look at the prisoners, and Joe and Rob, tying their 
captives firmly to a tree, sat down to wait for dark- 
ness. 

“ It’s lucky,” said Rob, as he made the last rope 
fast, “ that we learned as tenderfeet how to tie a reef 
knot. I’ve got those two ends tied behind the tree 
so an automobile couldn’t pull ’em apart.” 

Reggie, hatless and disheveled, a handkerchief 
round his mouth and his hands tied behind him, 
made a vicious lunge at Rob with his foot, and for 
the first time Rob noticed that he had rubber heels 
on his shoes. 

He took the paper pattern quietly from his pocket, 


PREDATORY WEALTH 63 

and while Joe held Reggie’s feet, compared it with 
the heel. It fitted exactly. 

“We’ve got the goods on him all ’round,” said 
Rob triumphantly. 

Reggie’s visitor from the city, who was a bit 
smaller than Reggie, and looked no more than 
twelve years old, began to cry. 


CHAPTER V 


The Court Martial of the Prisoners 
HILE Rob and Joe were waiting by the river 



V V with their prisoners, there was excitement in 
the great house on the hill. What had become of 
the boys? Why didn’t they come home for their 
suppers? While Mrs. Van Antwerp was urging 
Mr. Van Antwerp to “ do something about it,” the 
telephone rang. It was Mr. Rogers calling. 

“I’m very sorry my boys have acted so,” he told 
Mr. Van Antwerp. “ But they were pretty angry 
when they saw your boys playing with their flags, 
and they captured ’em, and say they are going to 
hold a court martial to-night. Of course, I’m going 
right away to release Reginald and his friend. It is 
your business to punish them, not ours.” 

To Mr. Rogers' surprise, the millionaire laughed 
long and loud. 

“ Good ! ” he cried. “ If you’ll see that my boy 
isn’t physically hurt, let the young rascal get his 
medicine. Serves him right ! Ha, ha ! Say, let 
me peek through the window at the ‘ court martial.’ ” 

“ Certainly. You know where the Scout House 


64 


THE COURT MARTIAL 


65 


“ Yes/’ said the other, and went to tell his wife, 
who told him he had acted just like a stupid man, 
because she knew her Reggie wouldn’t steal any- 
thing. 

“ Steal ? ” said her husband, “ they didn’t steal. 
The young smart Alecs thought they’d play a joke 
on the scouts, I suppose, because the scouts are vil- 
lage boys. Let ’em get some of the snobbery 
knocked out of ’em. They’ve had their own way 
too much.” 

So nobody came to rescue Reggie and his chum, 
and at eight o’clock their captors heard oars on the 
river, and Arthur Bruce rounded the point in a big, 
flat-bottomed boat. The captives were led aboard, 
and the current took the party rapidly down-stream, 
past the railroad depot, under the trolley bridge, to 
the willows behind the Scout House. There, in the 
gathering darkness, they were landed, hustled up 
the bank, and led into the building, where twenty- 
one excited scouts awaited them, and gave a great 
howl of mingled rage and triumphant delight as they 
were led in and the gags removed from their faces. 

The first thing Reggie said, as the handkerchief 
was removed, was, “ My father’ll make it hot for 
you ! ” 

Reggie’s words were greeted with a chorus of 
threatening taunts and jeers. 

“ Aw, will he now ? ” 


66 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ Papa’s boy, papa’s boy ! ” 

“ How about his paying us for those flags ? ” 

“ Thief ! ” 

“ Soak him ! ” 

Reggie stood firm, and only glared. His little 
friend, however, began to cry again. 

“ Send for his mama,” taunted the scouts. 

If they had not been too excited to look, they 
could now have seen Mr. Van Antwerp peeping 
curiously through the window behind them. Mr. 
Rogers sat in a corner, saying nothing. ] oe Donovan, 
as leader of the oldest patrol, was judge of the court. 
He took his seat facing the scouts, and ordered Milt, 
Joe Rathbun and Rob to guard the prisoners beside 
him. Pounding the floor with a scout staff, he 
cried for order. 

“ What is the charge against these prisoners ? ” he 
asked. 

A howl went up, but Joe again thumped. “ Order ! ” 
he cried. “ Rob, you tell us.” 

Rob told quickly of the afternoon’s discoveries. 
“ It’s a plain case,” he finished. “ They are caught 
with the goods.” 

“ Punch ’em ! ” 

" Kick ’em ! ” 

“Make their fathers pay back !” 

“ Make ’em walk Spanish ! ” 

“ Let’s duck ’em in the river ! ” 


THE COURT MARTIAL 


67 


The last suggestion met with most favor. Some 
of the boys rose as if to put the threat into execution. 

“ Order I” roared Joe. The boys, respecting Joe, 
sat down again. 

“ We’ll try ’em fair,” he went on. “ Prisoners, 
what have you to say for yourselves ? ” 

Reggie looked defiant. “ Nothing,” he said. 

“ When did you take the things ? ” 

“ Last night, after you’d gone. We’d been look- 
ing through the window.” 

Another howl went up from the scouts. Joe 
thumped the floor. “ Why did you take them ? ” 

“ Don’t know,” answered Reggie. “ Just thought 
it would be fun.” 

“ Why did you ? ” said Joe, turning to the scared 
little visitor. 

“ R- Reggie told me,” whimpered the lad. “ He — 
he said you — you fellers never played with him, and 
he’d get even.” 

“ It’s a lie ! ” cried Reggie. 

Mr. Rogers looked at Reggie with sudden atten- 
tion. Some of the scouts laughed derisively. 

“ Play with him ! ” cried Peanut. “ Humph, he 
don’t play with * us. He’s too good for us, he is. 
Let’s duck him in the river.” 

“ Duck him, duck ’em both ! ” yelled the scouts 
again, rising angrily. Reggie never flinched, but 
the younger boy looked white and scared. 


68 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


Joe pounded with his staff. “ No, we won’t duck 
them,” he cried. “ What good would that do ? 
We’ll make them promise to restore our property, 
and then we’ll take 'em home and tell Mr. Van Ant- 
werp what they’ve done.” 

A howl of protest arose. 

“ Aw, no! ” 

“ What’s the fun of that ? ” 

“ Punish ’em ! ” 

“ Duck ’em ! ” 

“ Duck 'em / ” 

“ Duck ’em ! !” 

" DUCK ’EM!!!” 

Here Mr. Rogers interposed. ‘‘Boys,” he said, 
“ I don’t want to interfere in your trial, but I’d 
like to suggest that you remember it’s part of the 
scout oath to do a good turn to somebody every day. 
Here’s our chance. Why not take Reggie into the 
scouts ? He’s nobody to play with up there on the hill. 
I’ll bet he’d like to come. We couldn’t do anybody 
a better turn than making him a scout, could we ? ” 
The boys were so astonished at the suggestion 
that for a moment none of them spoke. Joe was the 
first to recover. “ That’s a good idea, fellows,” he 
said. “ I’m for it. Reggie’s got sand. He’d make 
a good scout.” 

“ Shall we take in mama’s pet, too ? ” shrilled 
Willie Walker, 


THE COURT MARTIAL 69 

Other boys found their voices and protested 
violently. 

“We don’t want him 0 ” 

“ We don’t want thieves.” 

“ Duck 'em / ” 

While the room was in a turmoil, the door sud- 
denly opened, and Mr. Van Antwerp stepped in. 
There was a sudden scared silence. He was a tall, 
distinguished looking man, and his wealth and 
position made him an object of respectful awe in the 
village. The boys did not know what to say, or what 
was going to happen. Reggie started toward him. 

“ Go back to your place! ” said his father sternly. 
“ You are on trial ! ” 

Then he turned to the scouts. “ Boys,” he said, 
“ my son has done you a grave wrong. I want to 
apologize for him. I shall, of course, see that he re- 
places all your property as good as new. I shouldn’t 
blame you a bit if you ducked him, but it would do 
him more good if you’d be generous and take him 
into the scouts. When I heard your young leader 
here second such a generous idea, I said to myself, 
‘ There’s a boy that could teach my boy a whole lot.’ 
He doesn’t have many playmates up there on the 
hill, but it’s not his fault he’s a rich man's son. It’s 
my fault. It's I you ought to duck. But I hope 
you won’t. I’d rather we all got together and were 
friends.” 


70 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

The man spoke simply, looking the boys square in 
the eyes. The Chipmunks still murmured, but the 
older scouts were impressed. 

“ I think we can, Mr. Van Antwerp,” said Joe. 
“ If Reggie wants to come in.” 

Reggie, who had been sullen and defiant till his 
father came, had changed entirely when his father 
took the scouts’ side. He looked upon his father as 
infallible. When the man sided against him, he was 
for the first time ashamed of what he had done. 
Now he spoke. 

“ I’m sorry,” he said, " and I apologize to the 
scouts. I’d — I’d like to be one.” He spoke slowly, 
but he stood erect and looked at the scouts squarely. 

The boys looked at him. They noticed that he 
did not hang his head, and respected him for it. 

Peanut, quick in sympathy, was the first to cry 
out, “ Take him in ! ” 

There was still a mutter of protest, but Joe put the 
question to a vote, and it was carried with a good 
majority. 

“ Hooray ! ” called Peanut. “ Now we can have 
an initiation ! ” 

The boys crowded around Reggie, who was 
quickly unbound, and one by one they shook his 
hand. Mr. Van Antwerp shook hands with them, 
too. The whole atmosphere of the room had sud- 
denly changed. Reggie, still a little ashamed, and 


THE COURT MARTIAL 


7i 


shy among so many boys with whom he had never 
played before, forgot how hungry he was as he 
listened to the talk about hikes and camping and 
ball games. His father, whom the boys had only 
known as a distant figure to whom they had respect- 
fully bowed on the street, was laughing and chatting 
like one of them. 

“ Boys ! ” he cried, “ I’ve got a fish and game 
preserve not many miles from here, at Loon Lake, 
and it’s yours for your summer camp ! ” 

The boys had heard of Loon Lake. They shouted 
with joy, and when the meeting broke up they gave 
three cheers for Mr. Van Antwerp. 

As they were dispersing, however, Lou Merritt 
said sadly, “ I wish we’d ducked ’em, though.” 

“ Aw, let it go,” answered Peanut. “We did ’em 
a good turn, and that’s what scouts are for. Besides,” 
he added hopefully, “ maybe we can duck Reggie 
when we initiate him.” 

“What’s that?” said Mr. Rogers, overhearing. 

“ I was just saying there were hornpout in Duffy’s,” 
answered Peanut with an impish grin, dodging the 
swipe at his head which the scout-master laughingly 
made. 


CHAPTER VI 


Lou Merritt Finds His Honor 

M IDSUMMER had now come, and all the boys, 
in one way or another, had earned their 
uniforms except Lou Merritt. He had not been to 
see Mr. Rogers as he had promised to do. The 
scout-master, meeting him on the street one day, led 
him into his house. 

“Why haven’t you got your uniform yet?” he 
asked. 

The boy hung his head. “ I ain’t got the money,” 
he said. 

“ You’ve been caddying, haven’t you ? What 
have you done with the money you earned that 
way ? ” 

“They took it away from me,” Lou answered, 
coloring. 

“They? Who are ‘ They ’? ” 

“ The folks I live with, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. They 
take away all I earn. They say it’s to pay my 
board. I tried to save some they didn’t know 
about, honest I did, but the caddy master told 
’em I’d been caddying. I guess they asked him, 
and he told ’em how much I made.” 

72 


LOU MERRITT FINDS HIS HONOR 73 

Mr. Rogers looked sharply at the boy, and sud- 
denly asked, “ Did he tell them that you stole a ball 
out of Mr. Lester’s bag ? ” 

“ I didn’t steal a ball, honest I didn’t ! ” said Lou. 

“ Don’t lie to me. Why did you take that ball ? ” 

The boy’s eyes filled with tears. “ I thought 
maybe I could sell it without their knowing, and save 
some money that way,” he answered, hanging his 
head. 

“ And you were one of the scouts who wanted to 
duck Reggie Van Antwerp in the river because you 
said he was a thief ! Why shouldn’t you be ducked 
just as much ? ” 

“ Reggie don’t have to steal to get things,” Lou 
whimpered. 

“ Well, there’s some truth in that,” Mr. Rogers 
answered kindly. “ But nobody ought to steal to 
get things, especially a boy scout. You’ve taken 
the scout oath, and that ought to mean that your 
honesty is above question. You want a uniform like 
the rest of the boys, and you’re going to have it. But 
you must get it without any sneaking. Are you 
willing to do a little extra work ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Lou. 

“All right; now you come to my house every 
morning and weed the garden, and I’ll give you 
fifteen cents an hour. I shall tell Mr. Smith exactly 
what that extra money is for, and he won't make you 


74 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

give it to him. I’ll pay you each day, and you’ll 
give Rob the money for your uniform when you’ve 
earned enough.” 

He patted the boy on the shoulder. “ What you 
need, Lou, is a new place to live. We’ll have to 
attend to that. Now, look me in the face, and swear 
on your honor as a scout that you’ll never take 
another golf ball, or anything else that doesn’t 
belong to you, and that you’ll never tell me another 
lie.” 

Lou looked up. “ I swear,” he said. 

When he had gone, the scout-master walked up 
the hill to Mr. Van Antwerp’s house, and told him 
about the case. “ Poor little orphan,” he said, “ he 
has nobody to be kind to him, and of course he 
wants what the other boys have, and in trying to get 
what the other boys have he’s become a sneak. If 
we could only find him a better home, and give him 
a chance to learn how to earn his own living, he 
would become an independent, fine lad.” 

“ I guess all the charity isn’t needed in the big 
cities,” said Mr. Van Antwerp. “ I’ll pay his board 
at any house you say, and he can come up here and 
learn to be a gardener, from my superintendent, if 
that would suit him.” 

So that was how Lou Merritt suddenly found him- 
self no longer living with the Smiths, a poor family, 
second cousins of his dead mother, and his only 


LOU MERRITT FINDS HIS HONOR 75 

relatives, but who had never wanted him. Mr. 
Rogers helped him pack his few poor clothes and 
possessions, and he moved to a neat, clean chamber 
at Miss Swain’s, a motherly “ old maid ” who, 
unlike most of her kind, was not a bit afraid of boys, 
and began at once to treat Lou as if he were her own. 
He no longer carried washing to the great house on 
the hill, but followed the gardener about for an hour 
or two nearly every day learning how to care for the 
plants and vegetables. Sometimes Mr. Van Ant- 
werp came along, too, and talked to him. It seemed 
to him as if the world had suddenly become kind 
instead of hostile. When he wanted anything, in- 
stead of having to lie or deceive to get it, he could 
ask for it squarely, or earn it for himself, and no 
questions asked. Lou laid all his good fortune to 
Mr. Rogers, but as he would never have found Mr. 
Rogers except through the boy scouts, he came to 
feel that the scouts were about the finest organization 
in the world, and the one sure way to make Lou 
fight was for a boy who was not a scout to sneer at 
his new uniform. 


CHAPTER VII 

Up Greylock 

“ /GREYLOCK Friday — two days’ rations ! ” 
vJ Peanut, on his wheel, carried the news from 
Mr. Rogers’ house to all the Chipmunks. 

“ Eight o’clock trolley, blanket roll, frying-pan, 
heavy shoes and a sweater,” were the further orders, 
“ and two first aid kits and two hatchets.” 

Friday dawned hot but beautifully clear. Mr. 
Rogers found nine eager boys at the trolley station, 
knapsacks full of food, and blanket rolls clumsily 
done up round their shoulders. We say nine, 
because Reggie Van Antwerp was now a Chipmunk, 
too, a sort of summer member, as it were. Though 
the boys had not quite dared to duck him at his 
“ initiation,” they had made him sing for them, and 
dance a clog, and, when he grinned, “ wipe the smile 
off ” on the floor. But Reggie had stood it well, and 
was now one of the crowd. 

Before the car came, everybody took off his 
blanket, and under instructions rolled it neatly and 
tightly up again with the sweater inside, and tied 
the two ends firmly together, making a kind of 
closed horseshoe. 


76 


UP GREYLOCK 


77 


“ Why the sweaters ?” asked Prattie. 

“You’ll see,” said Rob, who had been up the 
mountain before ; “ it gets cold up there at night, 
and besides you’re always in a sweat when you reach 
the top, and need something extra.” 

None of the other boys had ever climbed a moun- 
tain higher than the eighteen-hundred-foot hills 
about Southmead, and many of them had not 
even done that. Greylock was almost thirty-six 
hundred feet, the highest mountain in Massachu- 
setts. The trolley could not go fast enough to suit 
them. They passed through the city of Pittsfield, 
took the steam train there northward bound, and 
alighted at the mill town of Adams. Just west of 
them they saw the wall of the mountain, a great 
white scar running straight up its steep side. It did 
not look very high, not much higher than the hills 
about home. 

“Ho,” cried Willie Walker, “I can jump up 
that ! ” 

Rob laughed. “ We’ll let him have two jumps, 
won’t we, Mr. Rogers ? ” he said. 

“ Give him three,” said the scout-master. “ Left 
by twos, forward march.” 

The little band of scouts, looking very business- 
like and military with their knapsacks, blanket rolls 
and stout staffs, marched in column formation 
through the hot streets, which almost instantly 


78 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

began to go steeply up hill. The passers-by paused 
to look at them. 

“ Goin’ campin’ up the mountain, boys?” asked 
a man. 

“ No,” said Peanut, “ we are going to play golf 
with frying-pans.” 

“ Here, Peanut, cut out that fresh stuff,” said Mr. 
Rogers ; but he had to laugh in spite of himself. 

Willie, who was going up the mountain in one 
jump, was the first to complain that his blanket roll 
was hot and heavy. “ My shoulder’s all wet. 
Aren’t we most to the bottom ? ” he asked. 

“ Cheer up,” said the scout-master. “ The walk 
to the base is always the longest part of the climb 
up a mountain. You can begin to jump soon.” 

“ I should call this a climb right now,” said Arthur 
Bruce. 

They were out of the village, climbing a dusty 
road between pasture walls. Below them they could 
see the great paper factories and the town and rail- 
road. Ahead were more and steeper pastures, and 
then the sheer side of Greylock. 

“ What made that great strip of bare rock ? ” 
asked Rob, pointing to the white scar on the green 
side of the mountain. 

“ Looks like a toboggan slide,” said Peanut 
“ Wow, you’d go some on that ! ” 

“ Let’s come up next winter ! ” cried Willie. 


UP GREYLOCK 


79 


“ That’s a landslide,” explained the scout-master. 
“ The soil is very shallow on a mountain, just a 
layer on the rocks, and sometimes after a long 
drought it gets so dry that a heavy rain will soak 
right through and the water will begin running 
down on the stone underneath. If the side is very 
steep, that will often wash loose some of the soil 
and trees, and they’ll start slipping down on the wet 
rocks. Of course, they gather speed as they go, 
and grow like a snowball, and if the place is steep 
enough, they’ll just carry away everything clear to 
the bottom. That’s probably what happened here. 
It happened once in the Crawford Notch in the 
White Mountains, and the mass of earth and trees 
killed the whole Willey family at the bottom. The 
funny thing there was that the family heard the 
landslide coming and ran out of the house to escape. 
If they had stayed in the house they’d have been all 
right, because the debris hit a rock right behind the 
dwelling, divided, and never touched the house at all.” 

The scouts had now come to the last house on the 
road. They stopped for a drink at the well, and to 
ask their way. They threw off their hot blanket 
rolls with sighs of relief, and dove for the pump. 
The farmer told them how to find the path, a couple 
of miles southward. “ But,” he added, “ you can go 
right up the slide if you’re .good at shinning.” 

“ You bet ! ” cried Peanut. 


8o THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ Then follow the telegraph poles up the pasture, 
and you can’t miss the way,” laughed the farmer. 

The boys set out again. The pasture was very 
stfeep, and the uncut grass tall as their waists. They 
toiled through it in the glaring sun. 

“ Mountain climbing’s no snap,” said Dennie 
O’Brien. 

To which remark there was a chorus of assent. 

After a quarter of a mile, the Chipmunks reached 
the real base of the climb. They saw at the foot of 
the landslide a vast pile of broken stone. The tele- 
graph poles ceased, and the wires went down into a 
two-inch galvanized iron pipe, which stretched out 
of sight up the rocks. It was the line to the summit 
house. On either side were hemlock and spruce 
woods, but the slide stretched upward, almost as 
steep in places as the side of a house, bare and 
dangerous. Willie took one good look at it, and 
whistled. 

“ Gee ! that’s some jump ! ” he said. 

‘‘It is that,” said Dennis. “I’m thinking you’ll 
take three jumps, or maybe four.” 

The boys sank down in the shade to rest before 
the climb, and made a quick lunch, without a fire, 
by the side of a tiny brook which trickled down the 
slide, like a slender thread of silver, cold as ice. 
Lunch over, they resumed their burdens, and tackled 
the climb. 


UP GREYLOCK 


81 


It was unfamiliar work to them, and hard work, 
made harder by the hot sun baking down on the 
rocks, and their own heavy blankets and knapsacks. 
Their backs grew wringing wet with perspiration 
where the packs and blankets rubbed. In some 
places the rocks were so steep that the only way 
they could get on was by clinging to the iron pipe 
with their hands and hauling themselves up. The 
slide was narrow — perhaps not more than fifty feet 
across in the widest places, and on either side grew 
the stunted mountain spruces. Some of the boys 
tried climbing through the trees instead of over the 
rocks, but that was harder still, as the low, tough 
branches and dead stuff caught and held them back. 
Nobody was talking, not even Willie Walker, except 
when they sank down every five minutes on a ledge 
to rest. Then they would look back down the pre- 
cipitous slide, and out over the constantly expand- 
ing view, and wonder at the new sensation of height. 

“ Wow, but this does get you up high, if it is hard 
work ! ” said Arthur. 

“ It would be easy enough going down,” said 
Peanut. He dislodged a rock about the size of his 
head, and gave it a push. With a bound and a 
crash it started down the slide. The scouts watched 
it a moment. Then it disappeared over the edge of 
a particularly steep place, and they could only hear 
it crashing fainter and fainter. 


i 


82 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Peanut gave a shivery kind of laugh, and looked 
up the slide instead of down. Reggie Van Antwerp 
got up and moved to a larger ledge. Even Rob 
looked a little awed. 

“ I didn’t come up this way before,” he said. “ The 
path’s easy. Are we coming down the slide, too ? ” 

“ That’s up to you,” Mr. Rogers smiled. 

“ Me for the road,” shrilled Willie. 

“ Rats ! ” said Peanut, who had recovered his 
bravery. “ I say the slide. Say, Art, we could 
signal on this pipe ! ” 

He picked up a stone and rapped on the pipe 
resoundingly. 

“Sure,” said Arthur; “go ahead, and send down 
word if you can see the top of the mountain.” 

The slide pitched up over a sharp incline a hun- 
dred feet above, and no more of it could be seen. 
“ Isn’t that the top right up there ? ” Peanut asked. 

“You always see seven tops to a mountain before 
you get to the real one,” the scout-master laughed. 
“ But go on and find out, and then signal back.” 

Peanut scrambled on ahead. The boys saw him 
grow smaller and smaller up the slide. He pulled 
himself with the aid of the pipe over the steep ledge, 
and vanished. Presently they heard a faint sound 
in the pipe. Arthur listened, his ear to it. 

“ E - n - d -o-f-s-l-i-d-e-m-o-r-e-m-o-u-n-t-a-i-n-y-e-t,” 
he spelled out, slowly, the dots and dashes of the 


UP GREYLOCK 83 

Morse alphabet seeming to come by means of longer 
or shorter pauses between the raps. 

“ End of the slide 1 One more jump for Willie,” 
cried somebody. “ Come on.” 

The scouts picked up their packs, and scrambled 
on. Once over the last steep ledge they saw that 
the slide did indeed stop. A path began through 
scrub evergreen, and after a few hundred feet they 
saw a stone wall ahead — but no sign of Peanut. 
Climbing this wall, they found themselves suddenly 
on a road, the carriage road up the mountain, which 
winds ’round and ’round to reach the summit, like a 
spiral. Peanut was hiding behind the wall. 

“ Where’s your slide ? ” he asked, popping up. 

The boys turned back. Where was it, indeed? 
Out over the tops of the scrub trees they saw the 
valley far below, and beyond that the blue hills to 
the dim horizon. But no slide. The last ledge hid 
it. It dipped from that so steeply that it was in- 
visible. 

“ Gee, that was some climb 1 ” said Dennis, easing 
his pack. “ And now we can’t even see what we’ve 
done.” 

Peanut, the tireless and active, was already “ har- 
nessed ” again (as he put it) and about to set out up 
the road. 

“ Hold on,” cried the scout-master. “ Let’s reason 
this thing out. This carriage road must wind around 


4 


84 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

the mountain, because such roads always do, so the 
grade won’t be too steep. There must be a shorter 
foot-path straight on up.” 

Peanut began to search. In a moment he 
found this path, not far from the point where the 
trail up the slide came into the road on the lower 
side, and with a cry he was up it. The rest followed. 
They were in low timber now, and it was hard to 
believe, not being able to look off, that they were on 
top of a mountain at all. After five minutes of easy 
climbing, a clearing emerged ahead. Peanut dashed 
into it at full speed. 

“ Here we are, here we are ! The top ! ” he called 
back. The other scouts, forgetting their weariness, 
dashed after him. They were, indeed, on the top 
of Greylock, in a clearing of perhaps four or five 
acres, with a small house and barn in one corner, and 
on the highest point in the centre a tall iron tower. 

Their first sensation was one of disappointment, 
for the evergreens around the clearing shut off all 
outlook. They might have been in a valley. But 
Reggie cried, “ The tower ! ” and the pack set off on 
a dash for that. 

Dumping blankets and knapsacks at the base, they 
scrambled up the iron stairs, and from the wind-swept 
little platform sixty feet above they saw suddenly 
the whole vast panorama of the world below them, 
and realized how high they had climbed. 


UP GREYLOCK 


85 


Far off to the northwest, like the frailest blue cloud 
on the horizon, were the Adirondacks, to the south- 
west, a little more distinct, were the Catskills, north- 
ward were the Green Mountains of Vermont, north- 
eastward the lone pyramid of Monadnock, and all 
about them, seemingly at their very feet, the huddled 
Berkshire hills, looking curiously small. On the 
platform was a brass plate with the names of all the 
mountains engraved upon it, and arrows pointing to 
them. The boys studied them out, while the moun- 
tain wind blew refreshingly on their hot faces, and 
they forgot how hard the climb had been. Suddenly 
the wind caught Peanut’s scout hat and carried it 
like a “scaler” far from the tower. 

“ I can beat that,” said Arthur. He took off his 
hat, held it like a discus, and scaled it as hard as he 
could. It lay on the ground, far below, six feet 
farther from the tower than Peanut’s. Off came 
Willie’s hat, and he threw. In two minutes nine hats 
were lying in the mountain cranberry and huckle- 
berry bushes. 

“That’s some game ! ” said Peanut. “ Now who’s 
going to get ’em ? ” 

“The one whose hat is nearest,” suggested Reggie. 

“ Oh, that’s me, of course,” sighed Prattie, as he 
set off down the stairs, and gathered up the hats. 
Then everybody threw them off again, and watched 
them sail on the wind. 


86 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

There is no knowing how long the new game 
might have continued, if it had not suddenly oc- 
curred to Peanut that he was thirsty. The last 
drink had been near the base of the slide. They 
had not found another spring. No sooner had Pea- 
nut spoken than everybody realized how thirsty he 
was, too, and then followed a dash for the little 
summit house, which is a kind of hotel, chained 
down to the rocks to keep it from blowing away in 
winter. 

As the boys stormed into the front room they 
saw a big sign, “ Ice-cold mineral waters and ginger 
ale,” and gave a cry of joy. There was diving into 
pockets for coin, and a deluge of orders for the 
bewildered waitress, then another deluge, then a 
third. Fifteen minutes later nine boys and a man 
were seated round the long, board table, and be- 
tween them stood exactly forty empty bottles ! 

“Say, did we drink all that?” remarked Peanut, 
gazing at the havoc. 

“ I could drink some more,” said Willie. 

“You come out of here before the first aid squad 
has to get busy,” laughed Mr. Rogers. 

It was coming on supper time now, and the party 
scattered in squads of two to find a site for a camp. 
Arthur Bruce and Peanut, as usual, went together, 
and their site was chosen, because, as Arthur dem- 
onstrated with his woodsman’s instinct, the sleeping 


UP GREYLOCK 


87 


place was completely sheltered by low, tough fir, 
and would afford protection no matter which way 
the wind blew. In fact, to get into the sleeping place 
at all, one had to crawl through a hole under one of 
the tough balsams. It was as good as a chamber. 
Just outside was a clear space for the camp-fire. 

The boys brought their food and bedding to the 
camp, and while two of them made the fire ring and 
two more cut dead stuff for fuel, the rest went back 
to the summit house for a pail of water, a pail of 
milk and some eggs. 

Supper was soon under way. All the boys but 
Reggie had by now learned to cook such simple 
dishes as bacon and eggs and fried potatoes with 
neatness and despatch. Frank Nichols had charge 
of the coffee, and Arthur Bruce whittled forks and 
spoons out of clean wood. Everybody was hungry, 
and as the fire burned merrily they sat or lay about 
in the mountain moss and ate as you only can eat 
in the open, after a hard day’s work. 

“ Go easy on the water,” cautioned Rob, when 
they were washing up after the meal. “ There’s no 
spring up here, and all the water has to be caught 
in barrels off the roof of the house and barn.” 

When supper was cleared away, there was still 
some twilight left, and the Chipmunks, forgetting 
weary legs, were out in the clearing again. They 
played duck on the rock till it got too dark to see 


88 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


the duck stones, and then, on a natural mattress of 
moss, they had wrestling matches, and a cock-fight 
between Art and Peanut, in which Arthur was victor 
by virtue of his weight. When it grew quite dark, 
somebody suggested going up on the tower again. 
They were surprised, even a little awed, by the night 
view. The world far below was almost invisible. 
They seemed to be floating in space. But down in 
the valley they could see the twinkling, golden lights 
of Adams, and the headlight of a trolley moving 
through the blackness somewhere out in the country. 

“It’s as if the stars were down below as much as 
up above,” said Lou Merritt to Mr. Rogers. 

“What strikes me funny,” said Peanut, “is that 
you can see all those lights, but you don’t hear a 
sound. They seem kind of unreal.” 

“ It’s real that I’m sleepy,” laughed Rob. “ I 
move that we turn in.” 

Back to camp they went, and with the aid of a 
torch from the fire spread their blankets on the 
needles in their balsam chamber. Everybody was 
soon rolled up, and nearly everybody was asleep, 
except Mr. Rogers, who sat out by the camp-fire. 
But Peanut wasn’t asleep. He was very wide awake. 
This was the first time he had ever “slept out” (it 
was the first time for most of the boys, in fact), and 
the strangeness and excitement of it had keyed him 
up. His excitement took the form of snickering. 


UP GREYLOCK 


89 


This set Dennis O’Brien going, too, and first one 
would pretend to snore, and the other would snicker, 
and then the other would pretend to snore, and the 
first would snicker. 

Nobody else seemed to find this very funny. Mr, 
Rogers heard comments issuing from the evergreens. 

“ Aw, cut it out, Peanut, will yer ? ” 

“ Say, let a feller sleep.” 

“ Keep your feet out of my back ! ” 

“ What’s the matter with Peanut ? ” 

“ Dennie’s just as bad.” 

“ Let’s thump both of ’em.” 

Then there would be silence for a bit, and then, 
finally, another snicker, as if it had been bottled up 
just as long as possible, but had finally popped the 
cork. 

By this time Mr. Rogers wanted to go to bed him- 
self. He crawled in through the hedge, and rolled 
up in his blanket. “ Peanut,” he said, “ if you don’t 
be quiet and go to sleep, you wash all the dishes 
to-morrow. A scout that’s not grown up enough to 
know that he needs sleep on st hike, and who isn’t 
decent enough not to bother his fellows, is not fit to 
be a scout.” 

There was no answer. But presently, just as Mr. 
Rogers was dozing off, he heard a final, faint snicker. 
He rose angrily on one elbow. But it was not 
repeated. He presently heard Peanut breathing 


9 o THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


like the rest — sound asleep. Fifteen minutes later, 
if anybody had passed the spot, he would have seen 
the smouldering embers of a camp-fire, but noth- 
ing else, no human beings. The Chipmunks were 
wrapped in the protection of the evergreens, and the 
cold northwest wind rose and rushed over the summit 
of Greylock all night, but they never knew it. 


CHAPTER VIII 


First Aid Put to the Test 
RTHUR BRUCE was the first awake. Mr. 



JLX. Rogers, rousing, saw eight rolls of gray blan- 
ket in the circle of evergreen about him, and Arthur 
emerging from the ninth and examining the ground 
beneath it. 

“ What’s the matter ? ” asked the scout-master. 

“ I got a dent in my back, and I want to see what 
made it,” the boy answered. Then he laughed, and 
held up a stone as big as an English walnut. 
“ Didn’t wake me up till just now, though,” he 
laughed. “ Gee, I must have been sleepy 1 ” 

Arthur and the man crawled out without rousing 
the rest. The sun was not yet up. Going up on 
the summit, they saw that the valley was full of 
white vapor, so they hastened back and waked 
camp. The sleepy scouts, rubbing their eyes, 
climbed up the tower, and waited for the sunrise. 
The world grew brighter and brighter, but still no 
sun, only at their feet like a great sea the white 
vapor, stretching away into infinite distance. Then, 
suddenly, a red disk began to push up over the 
white, to the eastward, like a huge orange. 


92 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“The sun ! ” they cried. 

As the red ball rose higher it turned rosy the 
white vapors at their feet, and as it began to cast 
long shadows there seemed a heave and stir in the 
white clouds. Gaps opened. They saw through 
these gaps little pictures of the green valley far 
below, or distant blue mountains. Gradually the 
gaps widened, the white vapor vanished. It didn’t 
seem to go anywhere. It just disappeared, and the 
world lay all about them, in a two hundred mile 
circuit, as on yesterday. 

“ My, that’s worth getting up for!” said Rob. 

“You bet!” cried Peanut, enthusiastically, to 
which all the rest gave assent. 

Breakfast over, the morning was devoted to explor- 
ing the summit and the various paths down from it. 

“ I want every scout to make a map of this trip,” 
said Mr. Rogers, “ and the best and most accurate 
map will be hung in the Scout House, so that when 
the other patrols want to take the same hike they’ll 
know how to go and where to camp. If anybody 
finds a spring, put that down especially. It’s very 
important.” 

The boys could have spent a week, of course, 
exploring such a large mountain as Greylock, and 
still left much ground uncovered. But, in the morn- 
ing, they managed to beat the woods near the sum- 
mit looking vainly for a spring, and to follow a trail 


FIRST AID PUT TO THE TEST 


93 


northwest toward Williamstown, dropping down 
some thousand feet into a pit between three of the 
spur peaks of the mountain. This pit, because of 
its shape, is called the Hopper, a wild, rocky, impress- 
ive hole in the mountain. After they had explored 
it, they climbed back again, feeling well repaid for 
their trouble. 

Indeed, they had already become so accustomed 
to scrambling and climbing that the slide held no 
terrors, and when, after luncheon was over and every- 
thing packed, Rob put the question of the homeward 
trail to a vote, the slide won without opposition. 

“ Here’s our old friend ! Hello, slidie ! ” cried 
Peanut, as they crashed down the path from the 
carriage road and came to the beginning of the iron 
pipe. He grasped the pipe and started over the 
incline, the rest following. Without the pipe, the 
descent would have been perilous enough, but with 
its aid, they had little trouble. A few of the boys 
grew careless and did not test their footing securely 
enough before throwing their weight on, but with a 
hand on the pipe they were safe from falling head- 
long, and got only a few bumps and scratches on 
elbows or knees. 

About half-way down Arthur Bruce discovered 
what he thought was a wildcat track in some loose 
earth by the side of the slide. He paused to examine 
it while the rest went on. You could no more drag 


94 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Art from a track than a dog from a bone. A little 
below him the boys met a party coming up, a man 
and two girls. The girls were none too suitably 
dressed for climbing. One had on shoes with high 
heels, and the other a long skirt. They already 
looked tired and rather scared. 44 Is it much farther ? ” 
they panted. 

44 You’re about half-way,” the boys answered. 

44 Oh, I wish we hadn’t come, father,” one of them 
complained. 44 Can’t we go back ? ” 

44 You’ll find it easier going on than coming back, 
I’m afraid,” said Rob politely. 

They went on, and the boys dropped down over 
the next sharp incline. A few moments later Prattie, 
who was in the rear, called out, 44 Hark ! I thought 
I heard a shout ! ” 

The scouts halted. Very faintly, from up the slide, 
they heard a call, like a cry of distress. Suddenly 
Peanut dropped to the pipe, with his ear against it. 

44 Sh ! It’s Arthur signaling. Keep still 1 ” he 
continued excitedly. 

“C-o-m-e-q-u-i-c-k- g-i-r-l-h-u-r-t,” he spelled 
aloud. 

The boys sprang up the rocks. 44 Who’s got the 
first aid kits ? ” asked the scout-master. 

44 I’ve got one, and Dennie’s got the other,” shouted 
Rob back over his shoulder. He was already far 
ahead, closely pursued by Peanut. 


FIRST AID PUT TO THE TEST 


95 


The boys in their excitement covered the three 
hundred feet of steep slide in an incredibly short time. 
As they came over the brow of a ledge they saw the 
injured girl lying unconscious at the base of the next 
steep spot, her father and Arthur bending over her, 
the other girl standing wringing her hands and sob- 
bing hysterically. 

Rob’s first aid kit was out of his coat pocket 
already. Mr. Rogers had taken the first aid lessons 
of Dr. Henderson with the boys, but Rob had not 
only had the lessons, but, with two or three of the 
Crow Patrol, he had studied advanced first aid also, 
and was going to take the International Red Cross 
examinations in the fall, for a first aid certificate. Mr. 
Rogers noticed that he rushed to the girl with the 
air of a doctor, and at once took command of the 
situation. 

“ What happened ? ” he demanded. 

“ Her foot slipped upon this rock,” said her father, 
“ and she slid back. She lit on her feet, not her head. 
I think she’s broken her ankle and fainted with pain.” 

Rob knelt to examine the ankle. The girl’s right 
foot was turned out in an unnatural position, almost 
at right angles. 

“ Potts’ fracture — she’s broken the lower end of 
the fibula,” he said. 

Her father gasped in amazement. “ Are you a 
doctor?” he exclaimed. 


96 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ No,” said Rob, “but I know that much. Arthur, 
give me your big knife. That’s it. Now, take your 
axe and go cut a thick stick as long as from her foot 
to above her knee, and split it if you can to make 
one side flat. Be quick. Peanut, you’re the fastest. 
Leave your pack here, go down the slide, don’t try 
to go so fast you'll get hurt too, and run to the near- 
est farmhouse. ’Phone for a doctor to come right 
up there. If they haven’t a ’phone, make ’em hitch 
up a team, and drive like the wind. Now, Mr. 
Rogers, help me, please. We won’t bring her to till 
the splint’s on.” 

Rob fired off these orders like a captain on a battle- 
field. He seemed to know what he was about so 
well that Mr. Rogers did not interfere, and the girl’s 
father looked on in helpless, but grateful, bewilder- 
ment. 

While Mr. Rogers held the girl’s leg, Rob took 
Arthur’s hunting knife and slit her boot all the way 
down the front, then slit it all the way down the back 
and removed the two halves. 

“ No blood on the stocking ; good ! Not a com- 
pound fracture,” he said, examining the ankle. “ Now, 
hold firm, Mr. Rogers ! ” 

While the other girl screamed and turned her face 
away he gently but strongly pulled the foot into its 
normal position. There was a little crunching sound 
as he did so. 


FIRST AID PUT TO THE TEST 


97 


“Ready with that splint, Art?” he shouted. 
“ Don’t let go, Mr. Rogers. Hold the leg exactly 
so.” 

Art came running with the splint, a piece of dead 
spruce, split flat on one side. 

“ Good,” said Rob. “ Ready with the bandages, 
Dennie. Use the slings out of both boxes. Give 
me your sweater, Prattie, for padding. We’ll want 
more bandages, too. Maybe the other lady’ll tear 
some strips off her petticoat.” 

The other girl, roused at the words, grabbed at 
her underskirt, and tore several strips from the bot- 
tom. Rob and Mr. Rogers together placed a sweater 
round the injured leg for padding, to keep the splint 
and bandages from hurting, adjusted the splint along 
the inside, from below the sole of the foot to a point 
above the knee-joint, and Dennie bound it firmly on 
while they held it. Then they brought her other leg 
down into a natural position beside the injured one, 
and bound them both together. As they did so, she 
opened her eyes and groaned. 

At this, her sister, as if the strain had been too 
much, grew suddenly deathly white. 

“ Quick, she’s going to faint ! ” called Rob. 

Three or four scouts and her father caught her. 

“Stand her on her head, quick!” said Dennie. 
“That's what you do when folks are going to faint.” 

Her father looked indignant. But Mr. Rogers said, 


98 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ The boy’s right. Lay her down on the slope with 
her feet up the mountain.” 

They did so, and the color came back to her face. 

“ Now raise her slowly, by degrees,” ordered Rob. 
“ Don’t do it all at once or she’ll faint again. Two 
staffs and two coats, boys, and make a stretcher, 
quick ! ” 

Two khaki coats were off in a twinkling, the sleeves 
turned inside out, two staffs thrust through them, the 
coats buttoned around, and a stretcher made. 

“ That won’t do till we get to the bottom of the 
slide,” said the scout-master. “ One end would 
always be so much higher than the other that she’d 
slip off. I’ll have to carry her. Some of you boys 
bring the stretcher and Peanut’s pack, and the rest 
help the other girl.” 

He picked up the girl, who was now conscious but 
moaning with pain, by the arm carry, and the descent 
began. Mr. Rogers was very strong, and the girl, 
fortunately, was light, but he had to be so careful of 
his footing that the descent was slow. The slide 
growing less steep toward the bottom, Rob showed 
her father how to make a chair carry with him, by 
interlacing hands, and the burden was shifted to 
them, Mr. Rogers going just ahead to steady them or 
catch them if they slipped. 

At last the bottom was reached, the girl was laid on 
a stretcher, and Rob and Mr. Rogers took the poles, 


FIRST AID PUT TO THE TEST 


99 


being careful to break step so they would not jounce 
the patient, and the procession moved through the 
pasture toward the welcome farmhouse. As they 
emerged into the yard, they saw a dust cloud down 
the road, and heard the chug of a motor. Even as 
the farmer’s wife was showing them the way to a 
chamber, the doctor, whom Peanut had reached by 
’phone from the next house down the road, came 
hurrying into the yard. 

He sent all the boys out of the room except Rob, 
who begged to stay, and they waited talking excitedly 
around the pump while he set the limb. Presently he 
came out, with the girl’s father and Rob. 

“ Well, you boys are certainly all right ! ” he ex- 
claimed enthusiastically, “ especially this one ! ” He 
placed his hand on Rob’s shoulder, and Rob blushed 
red. “ The leg will set all right now, thanks to you.” 

The girl’s father was pale. His voice trembled as 
he spoke. “Boys,” he said, “if you hadn’t come 
along, I don’t know what I would have done. I 
could never have got my girl down that slide alone. 
I — I don't know how to thank you. I’d — I’d like to 
make you all some kind of a present — for your club, 
of course.” 

“Say, take him up on that,” whispered Reggie, 
the son of the millionaire. 

“ Aw, no,” said Peanut, “ scouts don’t take money 
for doing such things.” 


ioo THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


The boys looked at Rob to speak for them. 

“You are very kind, sir,” said Rob, “ but it’s part 
of the boy scout oath that we won’t take any — any 
presents for helping people. I’m — we’re all glad we 
were there to help you, that’s all.” 

Just then the other girl came out of the house and 
stood by her father’s side. Rob turned to her im- 
pulsively. “ I’d just like to say,” he blurted out, 
“ that you oughtn’t to climb mountains in high heels 
and long skirts.” 

“ I guess that’s right,” she answered soberly. “ If 
I had a boy scout for a brother, I’d know better. 
Oh, father,” she added, “ I’d like to kiss them all ! ” 

The boys tittered at this, and looked at each other 
sheepishly. Rob took a step farther away from her, 
and wondered why she smiled. 

“We’ll shake hands with them, anyway,” said 
her father. So they did, ending with Mr. Rogers. 
Then the man turned to Arthur. 

“ What were you doing on that pipe,” he asked, 
“ after you slid down the rock and found us ? ” 

“ I was signaling to the rest to come ; rapping the 
Morse code,” said Arthur. 

“ Well, you amaze me ! Is there anything you 
scouts can’t do ? ” 

“ We can’t catch our train, if we don’t start along,” 
laughed Mr. Rogers. 

So the scouts shouldered their packs again, and 



FIRST AID PUT TO THE TEST ioi 


in column of twos set off down the dusty road to 
Adams, the girl, her father and the doctor waving 
them a good-bye. 

Before they entered the town they turned around 
for a last look at Greylock and the great scar down 
its side. 

“ Some exciting afternoon I ” said Peanut. 

“ You bet,” cried Willie. “ Humph, girls never 
know how to do things I ” 

They walked on, Rob beside Mr. Rogers. “ I 
think I’ll be a doctor,” he was saying ; “ it’s lots of 
fun.” 


CHAPTER IX 


Off for Camp 

npHE Chipmunks were going into camp at Loon 
X Lake, on Mr. Van Antwerp’s fourteen-thousand- 
acre reservation, some fifteen miles from Southmead 
in the wild hill country of the southern Berkshires. 
There were 'two houses on the reservation, one the 
lodge where Mr. Van Antwerp lived when he went 
there to fish or shoot, the other the home of the 
game warden, or superintendent. There was also a 
boat house on the lake, equipped with canoes and 
flat-bottomed rowboats for fishing. Otherwise, the 
place was a wilderness. Mr. Van Antwerp had 
given the boys the use of two of his big farm 
wagons to carry them and their equipment to the 
camping ground. Two nights before the start they 
held an excited meeting to decide on what they 
should take. 

Blankets, of course, and extra flannel shirts and 
underclothes, and sugar, salt, bacon, flour, canned 
goods, bread, coffee, etc., enough to last a week. 
Eggs and milk they could get from the game war- 
den’s little farm. Then they must have fishing- 
102 


OFF FOR CAMP 


103 


tackle, hatchets, knives, cooking utensils, sweaters, 
“ and a spade,” added Mr. Rogers. 

“ What’s the spade for ? ” asked Prattie. 

“ To dig a well if we have to, and to bury the 
camp waste with,” answered the scout-master. 

Then there were first aid kits not to be forgot- 
ten, and note-books and pencils for making maps 
and observations, and plenty of small rope, and 
compasses. 

The question of firearms was brought up. Mr. 
Rogers had an automatic pistol, Rob a revolver, 
Prattie a shotgun (borrowed from his father), and 
Arthur Bruce a high power thirty-thirty rifle. 

“ If any boy but you owned that gun,” the scout- 
master said, “ I don’t know that I’d let him bring it. 
There’s no game you need it for in this part of the 
country, and it’s too deadly. But you are such a 
careful boy that you may bring it if you'll promise 
never to fire it except at a target against a bank, 
where the bullet will bury, or into some hill.” 

“ There might be a wildcat,” said Arthur. 

“There might be, but there won’t,” Mr. Rogers 
laughed. 

Then a vote was taken on the question of hous- 
ing. Should they take tents or build lean-tos ? The 
boys were all for the lean-tos. These questions de- 
cided, the excited Chipmunks waited as patiently as 
they could for the start. 


io 4 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

The morning dawned clear. The big farm wagons 
drew up at the club house, Reggie already aboard, 
with orders from his father to the superintendent to 
give the boys use of the boats and the run of the 
reservation. The provisions, blankets, and other 
baggage were piled in, followed by the Chipmunks ; 
and off they went, waving good-byes to their friends 
on the village street. 

The long drive took them through strange country, 
and two small towns, in each of which Peanut had 
to be held by main force from jumping out and buy- 
ing candy. Finally they began to climb a road into 
the hills, between thick woods. The last house dis- 
appeared. The horses toiled up for five miles or 
more, turned into a mere cart track in the forest, 
and presently the boys saw a clearing ahead, and 
then the blue waters of Loon Lake, stretching out 
for two miles in the unbroken timber. They gave 
a yell of delight. 

The superintendent welcomed them. He got out 
three flat-bottomed boats and a canoe, helped them 
stow their camp luggage aboard, gave them a sup- 
ply of milk and eggs, and advised them where to 
camp, at the upper end of the lake, by a pure spring 
which, he said, they would find marked by a great 
pine tree on the shore, nearly fifty feet higher than 
its fellows. 

It was now noon. Mr. Rogers and Rob took the 


OFF FOR CAMP 


105 


canoe, as none of the rest knew how to paddle. 
Indeed, some of the boys knew little or nothing 
about rowing, and the boats were heavily loaded. 
The little fleet moved slowly and clumsily out on 
the water. 

“ I guess the first thing will be some lessons in 
rowing,” shouted Rob, as the canoe shot ahead of 
the boats, and moved up the lake. He looked back, 
laughing. The boat rowed by Arthur and Peanut 
was coming on well enough, but the other two were 
going zigzag. 

“ Hi, pull on your left oar I ” Willie was yelling 
to Prattie. 

“ Well, don’t pull so hard on your right ! ” Prattie 
retorted, trying so hard to pull with his left arm that 
he caught a crab and sprawled over backward on 
the seat. 

The canoe went on ahead, found the great pine 
tree and the spring, and Rob and Mr. Rogers were 
waiting on the bank when the rest came up, panting 
and sore-handed, but rowing better than when they 
started out. Reggie had taken the oars of one 
boat, and because he knew how to row skilfully, had 
beaten out both the others, with two boys pulling 
in each. 

“ We’ll make you rowing instructor,” said Mr. 
Rogers. 

Lunch was now the first consideration. Without 


io6 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


waiting for a fire, the boys ate some potted ham 
sandwiches and fruit, with a glass of milk all around, 
and then shouted for a swim. But the scout-master 
stopped them. 

“ Come here ! ” he called. The Chipmunks gath- 
ered round. “ Now,” he continued, “ we are going 
to have certain camp rules, and any scout who 
breaks them is going to be punished, and punished 
‘ good and proper.’ He’ll have to wash all the 
dishes, maybe. One of the rules is that swimming 
comes before dinner, say at eleven o’clock, and at 
no other time, except a morning bath. The most 
dangerous thing you can do is to go in swimming 
on a full stomach. Any boy caught swimming out 
of swimming hour, and after a meal especially, is 
going to be sent home. Now, we’ll get camp built 
right away. It will take all the afternoon. You can 
have a swim before supper if you work well.” 

The boys cast a lingering glance at the pond, and 
made ready for work. 

The first thing was to select the site for the lean- 
tos and the camp-fire. 

“We want the ground sloping a little, don’t we,” 
said Arthur, “so it will drain in a storm? ” 

“Yes, and near the spring,” said Rob. 

The spring gushed out from under a rock about 
fifty feet back from the pond. It was on rising 
ground, for Loon Lake was surrounded by hills. 


OFF FOR CAMP 


107 


The boys found a spot close by where four hemlocks 
stood like the corners of a square, about ten feet 
apart. This was just what was wanted. Each boy, 
with a hatchet, was assigned his special task by 
Rob. Two were to clear the square within the hem- 
locks, and build a fire ring in the centre. The cook- 
ing oven was built by another boy a bit nearer the 
lake and spring. On two sides of the square, facing 
each other, the lean-tos were to be erected. 

This was the method of building a lean-to. First 
a pole was cut about twelve feet long, placed on 
limbs of the two hemlocks about six feet from the 
ground, and lashed to the trunk with a piece of cord. 
Then eight more poles, about twelve feet long, each 
with about three inches of the branch stubs left on 
it at one-foot intervals, were leaned against it, their 
ends driven a little into the ground. The tops were 
fastened to the cross pole with cords. Then more 
poles were laid across these leaning ones, resting on 
the forks made by the branch stubs. Thus a frame 
like half the roof of a small house was made. It 
was, of course, open at the ends, so more poles had 
to be leaned there. 

When the frame was made, the boys cut numer- 
ous evergreen boughs, taking care always to leave 
at the lower end a bit of a crotch. They then hung 
these boughs, by means of the crotches, on the cross 
poles, and down the sides, so that the roof was 


io8 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


thatched with hemlock and balsam. Then they piled 
leaves on the outside, along the ground, laid a log 
across the opening, to hold the “ bedding ” in, and 
filled all the ground inside six inches deep with small 
balsam boughs. 

The lean-to was now done, and work began on 
the other one, opposite. When that, too, was com- 
pleted, two little houses faced each other across the 
camp-fire, green and cozy, with two feet of space for 
each boy to lie in, or a little more, perhaps, because 
the sides of the lean-tos slanted out, making them 
wider at the bottom than the top. 

The boys worked hard and well when building 
their shelters, and in the process covered their hands 
black with pitch. Just as Rob had taken command 
when the girl was injured, Peanut took command 
here. He was a born carpenter, he could judge how 
long a pole ought to be almost without measuring, 
and he saw to it that the thatch was laid as neatly as 
shingles. 

While the shelters were going up, Mr. Rogers 
took Dennie and the spade, and went off to build a 
latrine, or toilet. They found a spot some distance 
from the camp where the soil was sandy, made sure 
that it was lower than the spring, and dug a trench, 
putting a smooth cross-bar between two trees over it. 

“ Now I want you to understand why we do this, 
Dennie, and to impress it on all the other boys,” said 


% # 

OFF FOR CAMP 109 

the scout-master. “ You know more sickness, even 
death, resulted in the Spanish-American war from 
typhoid fever than from bullets. The typhoid 
fever that didn’t come from bad water was mostly 
carried by flies, because the soldiers were careless 
and did not bury or burn the wastes from their 
bodies. The flies lit on the waste, and got germs 
on their feet, and then flew all over camp and 
walked on the soldiers’ food. We don’t want any 
sickness in our camp, so we are going to bury every- 
thing in this trench, and cover it up in the sand. It 
can’t do any harm covered up here, because the 
flies can’t get at it, to carry germs on their feet back 
to our food, and sand is such a good filter that the 
germs won’t flow underground into the lake. It’s 
going to be one boy’s job every day to be sanitary 
inspector of the camp. It’s not a pleasant job, but 
it’s a mighty important one.” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Dennie. “ May I be inspector the 
first day, to-morrow ? ” 

“ That’s the spirit. Sure,” said Mr. Rogers. 

They went back, and he heard Dennie proudly 
explaining to the other boys that he was sanitary 
inspector. 

It was six o’clock before the lean-tos were finished, 
the blankets spread ready on the balsam beds inside, 
the camp-fire and kitchen fire lighted, the provisions 
neatly stacked on a little platform Peanut had built 


no THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


across the branches of a tree to keep them out of 
reach of ants and ground animals, and the debris 
cleaned up. 

Then, with a yell of triumph, nine boys and a man 
made for the lake, stripping as they ran, and were 
soon splashing in the cool water, which was shallow 
enough near the bank for the few boys who could 
not swim. 


CHAPTER X 


The Camp-Fire Yarn 

W HEN the Chipmunks emerged refreshed from 
the water and gathered round the “ kitchen 
stove ” in the twilight, it was voted not to have a 
regular cook appointed, since nobody cooked better 
than anybody else (and nobody wanted the job, 
either ! ), but that each must prepare his own meal. 
Moreover, since it was part of the plan in camp for 
each boy to post himself on as many as he could of 
the second-class, or even first-class, scout tests, it was 
better that each boy should learn to cook. Arthur 
Bruce easily qualified both for a second and first- 
class scout on the cooking test at the first meal, for 
he cooked a quarter of a pound of steak for Reggie 
“ without ordinary cooking utensils,” using a forked 
green stick, and he showed other boys how to 
bake potatoes by digging away the coals in a corner 
of the fire, depositing the potatoes wrapped in green 
ferns into the cavity, and covering them up again. 
Then he cooked bacon and eggs for himself, and 
finally mixed pancake batter ; and, when the boys 
had all cleaned their plates of meat and eggs and 

in 


1 12 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


bacon, he cooked pancakes till everybody was satis- 
fied. 

“ They say Prentice Haven ate sixty pancakes 
once,” said Willie Walker, with a sigh of envy, “ but 
I can’t.” 

“ Well, Prentice Haven’s only half-witted,” said 
Prattie. 

“ Willie ought to eat a hundred and twenty, then,” 
laughed Peanut, dodging Willie’s foot. 

This was Arthur’s recipe for pancakes, easy to mix 
and to cook on a hot griddle, well greased with bacon 
fat, over a fire of hard wood coals, and served hot 
with butter and sugar : Beat one egg, add a table- 
spoonful of sugar, one cup of milk, mix enough self- 
raising flour to make a thick, creamy batter. Then 
pour on the griddle. Be sure to re-grease the griddle 
with bacon fat after each batch of cakes are cooked, 
and have the griddle always piping hot. 

When supper was cleared away, it was dark, and 
the boys were glad of the lantern Mr. Rogers had 
brought, to light them to the tiny brook flowing 
out of the spring, where they put the butter, meat, 
and other perishable things in cans in the cold water, 
a natural refrigerator. When the dishes were washed, 
they threw fresh wood on the little camp-fire between 
the lean-tos, and gathered round it in a circle, lying 
on the brown hemlock needles, and turned to Mr. 
Rogers. 


THE CAMP-FIRE YARN 


113 

“ A story ! ” they cried. 

“ Boys,’’ said Mr. Rogers, “ what would you say 
if I told you it sometimes took more courage to let a 
mosquito bite you than to fight with a lion ? ” 

“ I should say it was some mosquito ! ” said Peanut. 

“ It was ‘ some mosquito,' " laughed Mr. Rogers. 
“ And I'm going to tell you about it, because the 
story came into my head when Dennie and I were 
doing our sanitary engineering this afternoon. 
You’ll see why before I’ve finished. 

“ Now, the mosquito I’m going to tell you about 
is named Stegomyia fasciata ” 

“ Is his stinger as long as his name ? ” Peanut in- 
terrupted. 

“ Oh ! shut up,” said Rob. 

“ His stinger isn’t long, but very deadly,” said Mr. 
Rogers, “ only nobody knew it until the year 1900, 
and how they found out is the story I’m goingto tell 
you. 

“ All you boys have heard of yellow fever, haven’t 
you? You all know it’s a tropical disease, never at- 
tacking people farther north than our southernmost 
states. But in the countries where it flourishes, it is 
very deadly — or used to be very deadly. Those 
countries were chiefly the west coast of Africa, the 
Isthmus of Panama, spasmodically our Southern 
states, and the West Indian islands, especially Cuba. 
Havana was the worst yellow fever spot, perhaps, on 


1 1 4 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

the globe. The death rate there was about one in 
every four cases, so you see it was a very dangerous 
disease. It was supposed that the disease had come 
originally from Africa, brought over on slave ships, 
but nobody knew how it was communicated, and 
nobody had ever been able to find the germ of it. 

“You remember we said typhoid fever is caused by 
a little germ which you get into your intestines by 
drinking tainted milk or water, or eating food tainted 
flies have walked over. But nobody could get a 
microscope powerful enough to find any germ which 
caused yellow fever, so they couldn’t discover how 
it got from one person to another. They only knew 
that if one person came down with the disease, a 
hundred more, or even a thousand, were pretty sure 
to have it in the neighborhood, in spite of all known 
precautions. It was a terrible scourge, and the news 
that somebody in New Orleans had yellow fever used 
to send a shiver of terror over the entire city. 

“Now, way back in 1881 Dr. Charles Finlay of 
Havana had suggested that the disease was spread 
by mosquitoes, but nobody paid much attention to 
him. Years later, however, some doctors proved 
that malaria was carried by mosquitoes, so Dr. Fin- 
lay’s suggestion was taken seriously at last. In the 
year 1900 the United States Army department in 
Cuba, under the lead of the army doctors, began a 
scientific investigation. And it was Peanut’s friend, 


THE CAMP-FIRE YARN 


ii5 

the Stegomyia fasciata , they decided was the guilty 
party. He’s a black insect, not like our mosquitoes, 
with silvery marks under his throat, and he swarms 
in the tropic countries where yellow fever abounds. 

“ Now, how were the army doctors to prove that 
this mosquito carried yellow fever ? They couldn’t 
make the test on animals, because no animals ever 
catch yellow fever. It is solely a disease of man. 
The only way was to find volunteers willing to be 
bitten. Think what that meant, boys. If you were 
bitten, and the bite gave you yellow fever, you were 
just as surely risking your life as if you faced an 
army on the battle-field — indeed, the chances were 
heavier against you. The soldier has at least nine 
chances out of ten not to get killed, sometimes 
more. The yellow fever patient has only three 
chances out of four. Yet the army doctors found 
several of their own number and several soldiers 
who were willing and glad to risk their lives. 

“ It was the theory that the mosquitoes first bit a 
sick person, and then carried the germs of the dis- 
ease in his blood on their stingers. Then, when 
they bit a well person, they transferred these germs 
into the well person’s blood, and gave him yellow 
fever, too. Accordingly, the doctors caught some 
mosquitoes, let them bite sick people, kept them for 
two weeks, and let them bite the volunteers. All 
the volunteers were kept in one house, and with 


1 16 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


them lived an equal number of men who were not 
bitten. The doctors were careful to screen every 
door and window, and to kill all the test mosquitoes 
as soon as they had bitten the volunteers. Thus 
they had an equal number of men who had been 
bitten by infected mosquitoes and men who had not 
been bitten. 

“ What was the result ? In a short time all the 
bitten men came down with yellow fever. None of 
the unbitten men caught it then, nor did they catch 
it later, though they continued to live in the same 
house with the sick ones. It was thus proved that 
the fever is carried from person to person by the 
mosquitoes. 

“ Now, what happened? The United States Sani- 
tary Corps got busy. They made everybody screen 
every rain barrel and water receptacle where the 
mosquitoes could breed, for you know mosquitoes 
breed in stagnant water. They drained all puddles 
and pools, they poured oil on the marshes, they 
screened every window and door in the houses where 
sick people were, they exterminated the mosquitoes . 
During the year 1900, when the investigation began, 
there were twelve hundred and forty-four cases of 
yellow fever in Havana, with three hundred and ten 
deaths. By the end of the year 1901 there was not 
a single case in the whole city ! That has been the 
story everywhere since. That is why we are now 


THE CAMP-FIRE YARN 


117 

building the Panama Canal in safety, when fifty 
years ago to work in that zone meant almost certain 
illness or death. That is why yellow fever is no 
longer a word of dread in our own South. Those 
doctors and soldiers in Havana, who walked bravely 
up to the bite of a mosquito, were real heroes, boys, 
and did more good for the world than they ever 
could have done in a battle.” 

“Did any of them die?” asked Peanut, gravely, 
his eyes big. 

“Several of them died,” the scout-master an- 
swered. “ They lost their own lives to save thou- 
sands and thousands of others. One of the first to 
die was a man named Dr. Lazear. They have put 
up a tablet in his memory at the Johns Hopkins 
College in Baltimore, and the tablet says — I remem- 
ber the words because they impressed me so when I 
first read them — ‘ With more than the courage and 
the devotion of the soldier, he risked and lost his 
life to show how a fearful pestilence is communi- 
cated, and how its ravages may be prevented.’ ” 

He paused for a moment. The boys sat silent, 
looking into the fire. 

“ Now, if doctors and soldiers can be brave enough 
to lose their lives to show us how yellow fever can 
be stamped out, it isn’t going to be very hard for 
you boys to look after the sanitation of this little 
camp, is it ? and for each boy, when his day comes 


1 18 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


to clear up and bury the waste, to do it cheerfully 
and thoroughly? Why, Dennie’s volunteered for 
to-morrow already ! ” 

The boys all nodded their heads emphatically. 
Rob was still looking into the fire. “ I expect a 
doctor has a lot of chances to be a hero, even right 
up here, where there’s no yellow fever,” he said. 

“ He certainly has,” Mr. Rogers replied. “ More 
than anybody ever guesses. But so has everybody 
for that matter. Some of us may before we leave 
this camp. And now for bed ! ” 

The sleepy boys got into their lean-tos, after much 
good-natured scrambling for positions on the end, 
five in one, four in the other, with Mr. Rogers on 
one end. There was no giggling from Peanut this 
time. The scent of the balsams, the heat of the 
dying camp-fire, the soft lullaby of the water lap- 
ping on the beach, was too much for him. In five 
minutes the camp was silent under the dark forest 
trees, lit only by the flickering fire. 


CHAPTER XI 


Lost in the Woods 


HE next morning Arthur Bruce was the first up, 



X as usual. He was up even before Mr. Rogers 
awoke, and when the scout-master crawled out from 
the lean-to and went down to the lake for his morn- 
ing bath, he saw Arthur far out on the water, fishing. 
By the time he had roused the boys and driven them 
for a plunge into the water (I regret to say that a 
good many of the boys were not brought up at home 
to take a cold bath every morning), Art was back 
with two fine black bass, weighing a couple of pounds 
apiece. While the fire was kindled and the dishes 
made ready, he cleaned them carefully, dusted them 
with meal, and soon they were frying to a delicious 
brown in the bacon fat, sending out an odor to 
hungry nostrils which only a camper can ap- 
preciate. 

Breakfast over, the camp lined up for orders. It 
was certainly surprising how much had to be done. 
As they talked it over, the boys began to wonder 
how they could accomplish it all in a week. 

Rob laughed. “ Ma said to me, before we left, 


XI 9 


120 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


‘ What will you boys do with yourselves for a whole 
week ? ’ I guess we’ll find enough 1 ” 

“ Looks that way,” said Peanut. 

First, there were rowing lessons to be given by 
Reggie, because everybody must be able to handle a 
boat in a lake camp. Then there were stakes to be 
driven into the beach by the water’s edge to moor 
the boats to, and every scout had to prove that he 
could throw a clove-hitch over the stake with the 
boat’s painter. Then there was a rough bench to be 
made — by Peanut, of course — to sit on at meal times. 
Swimming would take up an hour before dinner. 
After dinner, somebody must catch some fish for 
supper. Also, somebody must row up the lake for 
more milk and eggs. Also, there was revolver 
practice to be held. The woods must be explored, 
and carefully mapped. Then, those boys who 
wanted to pass some of the first-class scout tests 
must work and study. What would they do with 
themselves ? Rather, where would they find time to 
do all they had to do ? 

By half-past eight the camp was a scene of 
great activity. Dennie cleaned up all the breakfast 
waste and burned it in the fire, and then shoveled 
sand into the toilet trench. Peanut was chopping 
and dovetailing logs for a bench in the clear 
space by the kitchen fire. Frank strung a line 
out of sight just back of the lean-tos for the toilet 


LOST IN THE WOODS 


1 2 1 


and dish-towels to dry on. Rob and Mr. Rogers 
cut four stout stakes and drove them into the beach 
at water line, to moor the boats to, and made a 
little landing pier by laying two logs side by side, 
from the shore out to a big flat rock which they 
rolled into the water. And Reggie, taking the rest of 
the scouts one by one, taught them how to row, and 
how to steer with an extra oar at the stern. After 
that, Rob gave lessons in paddling a canoe. The 
two boys who made the most progress in rowing 
were to be allowed to take a boat up the lake for 
eggs and milk, and the award went to Willie Walker 
and Lou Merritt, who the day before had been the 
worst “ landlubbers ” of the patrol, so had the best 
chance to improve ! 

The swimming, which followed, with diving off 
the stern of one of the flatboats, gave everybody an 
enormous appetite for the chops, bacon, eggs, crisp 
fried potatoes and cocoa at dinner. 

After dinner the scout-master ran rapidly through 
the second-class scout tests, and it was found that 
all the Chipmunks except Reggie, who was not yet 
up in signaling, were ready to pass. 

“ We’ll set Reggie to signaling with you, Peanut, 
twenty minutes a day,” said Mr. Rogers, “ and soon 
have him up on that. Now, the rest of you might 
as well get up on as much of the first-class work as 
you can. Let’s see what the tests are.” 


122 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


He read as follows from the “ Manual ” : To 
become a first-class scout, the second-class scout 
must pass the following tests : 


1. Swim fifty yards. 

2. Earn and deposit at least two dollars in a 
public bank. 

3. Send and receive a message by semaphore, 
or American Morse, or Myer alphabet, sixteen letters 
per minute. 

4. Make a round trip alone (or with another 
scout) to a point at least seven miles away, going 
on foot or rowing boat, and write a satisfactory 
account of the trip and things observed. 

5. Advanced first aid : Know the methods for 
panic prevention ; what to do in case of fire and ice, 
electric and gas accidents ; how to help in case of 
runaway horse, mad dog, or snake bites ; treatment 
for dislocations, unconsciousness, poisoning, fainting, 
apoplexy, sunstroke, heat exhaustion, and freezing ; 
know treatment for sunburn, ivy poisoning, bites and 
stings, nose bleed, earache, toothache, inflammation 
or grit in eye, cramp or stomach ache and chills ; 
demonstrate artificial respiration. 

6. Prepare and cook satisfactorily, in the open, 
without regular cooking utensils, two of the follow- 
ing articles as may be directed. Eggs, bacon, 
hunter’s stew, fish, fowl, game, pancakes, hoe-cake, 
biscuit, hardtack or a “ twist,” baked on a stick ; 
explain to another boy the methods followed. 

7. Read a map correctly, and draw, from field 
notes made on the spot, an intelligible rough sketch 
map, indicating by their proper marks important 
buildings, roads, trolley lines, main landmarks, 


LOST IN THE WOODS 


123 

principal elevations, etc. Point out a compass di- 
rection without the help of a compass. 

8. Use properly an axe for felling or trimming 
light timber; or produce an article of carpentry or 
cabinet-making . or metal work made by himself. 
Explain the method followed. 

9. Judge distance, size, number, height and 
weight within twenty-five per cent. 

10. Describe fully from observation ten species of 
trees or plants, including poison ivy, by their bark, 
leaves, flowers, fruit or scent ; or six species of wild 
birds by their plumage, notes, tracks or habits ; or 
six species of native wild animals by their form, color, 
call, tracks, or habits ; find the North Star, and name 
and describe at least three constellations of stars. 

11. Furnish satisfactory evidence that he has put 
into practice in his daily life the principles of the 
scout oath and law. 

12. Enlist a boy trained by himself in the require- 
ments of a tenderfoot. 


“ We can most all swim fifty yards,” said Arthur. 

“ We’ll all do it before we leave,” said Rob. 

“ Can’t deposit much money in the bank here ! ” 
said Peanut. 

“ You’ll all have to practice signaling for speed, I 
guess,” said Mr. Rogers. “ You can all get up on 
the fourth test by exploring the woods round camp. 
The advanced first aid you’ll have to get from Dr. 
Henderson later. The cooking we can all learn 
here, and the map making, and this is just the place 
for the ninth and tenth tests. We’ve got our work 


I2 4 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

cut out for us 1 This afternoon Lou and Willie are 
going for milk to the warden’s house. They can 
map the lake shore between here and there. Two 
of you take another boat and map the opposite shore, 
setting down the best landing places, all the brooks 
that come in, and anything else you think scouts 
ought to know. Peanut, Arthur and Reggie, you 
set out back into the hills, and find the highest point 
of land from which you can see both the part of the 
lake near the camp, and the country on the other 
side, nail a white cloth there, and make a smoke fire. 
When we answer with a smoke fire from the camp, 
come back by compass, and blaze the trail.” 

“ What’s a smoke fire ?” said Reggie. 

“ I know,” answered Arthur. “ You make a regu- 
lar fire and then smother it with leaves, and then let 
it blaze again, and then smother it again. Two fires 
mean ‘ Help.’ ” 

“ Right ! ” said Mr. Rogers. “ The other boys 
will stay with me here and have revolver practice.” 

Lou and Willie set off down the lake for milk ; 
Rob and Dennie, in the canoe, with fish poles, set 
off to skirt the opposite shore ; Peanut, Reggie and 
Arthur, with his thirty-thirty over his shoulder, van- 
ished into the woods behind the camp. Mr. Rogers, 
left with Frank Nichols and Prattie, got out the 
revolvers, drew a target on a sheet of paper, pinned 
it to a tree, and began to practice. The crack, crack, 


LOST IN THE WOODS 


125 


of the revolvers echoed through the woods. After 
the two boys had got control of the guns so that 
they could hold them firmly on the mark, and had 
learned how to load and handle them, never pointing 
them at themselves nor anybody else, and always 
keeping the safety catch down till the moment of 
firing, they went out on the lake themselves, to fish 
and to watch for the smoke fire signal. From the 
lake they could see that the land went up behind the 
camp gradually, heavily wooded with evergreen. 
Across the lake, however, the hill was much steeper 
and higher, and seemed to have a clear space on top. 

“ That would be the place to signal to camp from,” 
suggested Frank. 

“You’re right,” said Mr. Rogers, a little anxiously. 
“ That hill behind the camp looks pretty thickly tim- 
bered. But the boys have a compass. They couldn’t 
have lost their way.” 

But it began to grow late, and still no sign of the 
smoke fire. Lou and Willie came back up the lake 
with a gallon can of milk and two dozen eggs. Rob 
and Dennie came paddling across with a rough 
sketch map of the other shore, the report of a fine, 
weedy inlet for pickerel, and one big fish to prove 
it, and still no smoke fire. 

“ Go back and make a big one on the shore of 
the lake,” ordered the scout-master, “ and one of you 
bring me out the shotgun and some shells.” 


126 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


The boys soon had a great column of smoke 
ascending, and Mr. Rogers let the shotgun roar 
three times. To his surprise, from the opposite side 
of the lake, evidently far back up the hill, came the 
faint crack of Art’s Winchester. 

“ How did they get over there ? ” he wondered, 
aloud. 

“ They’ve been doing some walking, all right,” 
said Rob. 

The boys kept the boats out on the lake, waiting 
developments. After a long time, Rob suddenly 
pointed to the bare rock on the hill opposite. A 
thin column of smoke was ascending from it. 

“ There they are ! ” he cried. 

Mr. Rogers fired again. After what seemed two 
or three minutes they heard the faint answering 
crack. 

“ That hill is some distance away,” said the scout- 
master, “if we can’t see them, and it takes the sound 
so long to travel there and back.” 

The sun was now setting. In a short while twi- 
light would be upon them. 

“ Boys,” said the scout-master, “ you go back 
and get your suppers. I’ll stay out here in one 
boat, and bring them across. Keep a bright fire 
burning right on the shore of the lake so that they 
can see it.” 

Darkness had begun already to gather in the 


LOST IN THE WOODS 


127 


woods. Out on the lake it was still light. The fire 
on the beach made a great red reflection against the 
forest wall. Mr. Rogers rowed ’round and ’round 
near the opposite shore for an hour, without hearing 
any sign. Several times he fired his gun, but got a 
response only after the first shot. That reply seemed 
to be far off to the left. He was growing more and 
more anxious when suddenly up the lake he saw a 
little spit of red flare up, grow larger, and cast a re- 
flection out over the dark water. He made for the 
point. As his boat grated on the beach, there by the 
signal fire stood three weary and tattered boys, their 
boots caked with mud, their coats torn, their faces 
scratched, and one of them, Reggie, looking very 
white and scared. 

“ Well,” he said, “ how did you get way over here, 
when you had both the sun and a compass to guide 
you?” 

“ We couldn't find any spot back of camp where 
we could get a look off, even by climbing trees,” they 
answered, “so we tried to circle the lake on the ridge. 
It was farther than we thought, and we got into a 
swamp, and we found a wildcat’s hole, and we lost 
our way finally getting down from where we built the 
fire.” 

They spoke all together, breathlessly. 

The scout-master took them aboard and set out 
across the lake toward the camp-fire. 


128 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ In the first place,” he said, “ you tried to do too 
much. It’s a long way around this lake on the hills 
behind, without any path. Why didn’t you fire again, 
Arthur, after that last shot nearly an hour ago? 
Didn’t you hear my gun ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, but I was saving shells, ’cause we found 
a wildcat’s nest ! ” 

“You can get more shells. You should always 
answer a signal. Why were you so long getting 
down from the hill where you made the fire, and why 
did you get way over here to the left ? ” 

The boys looked sheepish. “We — we got lost,” 
they said. 

“ Lost — with a compass? ” 

The boys looked still more sheepish. They were 
silent for a moment. Then Arthur spoke. “ We — 
we forgot to take the compass line when we left the 
top of the hill,” he said, “ because we could see the 
camp signal, and we knew the general direction. 
But then it got dark in the woods, so we looked at 
the compass and headed west, but pretty soon we 
began to go up hill again ” 

“ And gee ! you oughter see the tangle we got 
into ! ” put in Peanut. 

“ So we struck a match, and looked at the compass 
again, and we’d gone, round in a circle, and were 
headed east.” 

“ And every time we looked at the compass we 


LOST IN THE WOODS 


129 


found we’d been going in a circle, and we got into 
awful briars and dead stuff that tore our clothes,” 
said Reggie. 

“ Reggie got scared and said we were lost,” Peanut 
interjected, “and his knees got weak.” 

“ So’d yours,” answered Reggie. 

“ They did not ! ” Peanut retorted. 

“Well, then what happened?” Mr. Rogers inter- 
posed. 

“ Well, we heard your gun every now and then, 
and that helped, and finally we stepped right into 
a brook in the dark, and I knew that would lead us 
to the lake, and it did.” 

“Why didn’t you just keep going down hill?” 

“We did at first, but after it got dark the hill 
wasn’t steep enough to tell whether we were going 
down or up.” 

By this time the boat was nearing the shore. They 
saw the other boys round the bonfire on the beach, 
and a cheer went up as the scouts recognized their 
lost companions. After the three scratched and 
weary scouts had been fed, they sat up and began 
to be heroes, dilating on their adventure, and telling 
with much excitement of the wildcat nest they had 
found. 

“ It’s way up back of camp,” said Arthur, “ in a 
great big fallen chestnut log. One end of the log’s 
rotted out, and in front are a lot of rabbits’ bones and 


i 3 o THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

some chicken bones, too. But they don’t look very 
— very new , though.” 

“ Ho, it’s a fox ! ” said Willie. 41 The warden told 
Lou and me to-day he’d been having chickens stolen 
all summer.” 

“ Fox, your grandmother,” retorted Arthur. 
u Foxes live in holes. I guess I’d know a fox’s hole. 
Besides, foxes don’t have claws, do they, that they 
sharpen on trees and tear the bark ? ” 

“ What’s that ? ” said the scout-master. 

“ That’s right,” put in Peanut and Reggie together; 
“ big claw marks on a tree right side of the nest I 
Art fired his gun once into the hollow trunk before 
we looked in, but there was nothing inside except 
some hair on the bottom.” 

44 Gee, do you suppose a wildcat will come here 
while we’re sleeping ? ” said Willie, looking appre- 
hensively around at the dark woods. 

“ Nonsense ! ” said Mr. Rogers. 44 If it was a wild- 
cat, he’ll be more afraid of us than we of him. They 
never attack you unless you corner ’em, and I haven’t 
heard of one being killed around here in years.” 

“I wish I had a good dog, just the same,” sighed 
Arthur. 44 I’d get a shot at him yet ! ” 

And before he got into his blanket under the 
lean-to, Arthur carefully stood his rifle against a tree 
where he could reach it with one stride. 


i 


CHAPTER XII 


The Canoe Tilt 



HE next day rowing practice continued, and 


-L Reggie, tramping along the beach back to the 
boat house, returned with a second canoe, an old 
one with the seats broken out, but good enough for 
tilting. After dinner everybody fished long enough 
to get a good catch, and then the water sports be- 


gan. 


Two poles were trimmed absolutely smooth, and on 
one end of each was fastened a big wad of towels 
and cloths, to make it soft. Then the boys divided 
into four teams. (Rob and Mr. Rogers, because 
they were so much larger and stronger, did not 
compete.) One boy on each team paddled a canoe, 
kneeling in the stern. The other boy stood up in 
the bow with the pole in his hands, like an old knight 
with his lance in King Arthur’s day. His object 
was to push over the boy in the bow of the other 
canoe. The boy in the other canoe, of course, had 
the same purpose toward him. The first canoe to 
upset lost, and the best two out of three upsets were 
to count. Everybody was dressed only in bathing 
trunks. 


132 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

First Peanut, paddling, and Arthur in the bow 
with the pole, tilted against Willie Walker and Lou 
Merritt, Lou paddling for his team. The other boys 
danced up and down on the beach with excitement. 

The canoes faced each other, about one hundred 
feet apart. Rob fired a revolver for the signal. 
Peanut and Lou dug their paddles in, and the canoes 
drew close. Arthur, well balanced on his short, 
stocky legs, waited with his pole poised. But Willie, 
more excitable, lunged too soon. The point of his 
pole missed Art altogether and he fell forward against 
the gunwale of the canoe, and over it went. 

“ One for Peanut and Art ! ” cried the boys on the 
bank. “ Hooray ! ” 

The water was shallow near shore, and Lou and 
Willie soon had the canoe righted, and were in again. 
Again the two canoes charged. This time Willie 
caught Art in the chest and shoved. Arthur, how- 
ever, managed at the same moment to get the wad 
on his pole under Willie’s chin, and he shoved just 
as hard. The canoes came to a standstill. They 
rocked and swayed. The crowd on the shore 
yelled. 

“ Shove him, Art ! ” 

“ Push him, Willie!” 

“ Keep your feet ! ” 

But Art kept his feet the better, because he was 
shorter, and because he had Willie under the chin. 


THE CANOE TILT 


1 33 

Gradually Willie was forced backward, and with a 
final lurch the canoe went over. 

Willie and Lou waded ashore, dragging their 
canoe. It was quickly emptied and righted, and 
Dennie and Reggie got in, Reggie as paddle. Mean- 
while Frank and Prattie were in the other canoe, 
waiting. 

This battle did not last long. Reggie, who knew 
how to paddle better than the rest, simply sent his 
canoe bow on for the other as hard as he could, 
swerved just a hair’s breadth very quickly just as 
Prattie lunged at Dennis, so that Prattie’s lance went 
wide, and as his canoe rushed past, Dennie sent the 
other neatly over with a poke on Prattie’s side. 
This was repeated, and so the finals were between 
Peanut and Arthur, and Reggie and Dennis. 

“ It’s just like the knights in Ivanhoe,” cried Lou, 
dancing up and down on the beach. 

And now the finals were on. The pistol cracked. 
The two canoes rushed together. Reggie swerved, 
as he had done before. But Arthur was not to be 
caught so easily. He only pretended to lunge. 
As the other boat rushed by, he shortened up his pole 
and warded off Dennie’s jab at his side, as a fencer 
wards the blow of a sword. There was a crunching 
of wood as the poles grated together. The canoes 
rocked, righted again, and were past each other. 

The crowd cheered. 


134 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Peanut and Reggie faced about and charged 
again. It had become a battle between Reggie’s 
paddling and Arthur’s skill with his pole. This time 
Reggie sent his bow directly for the other, without 
swerving aside. Art stepped back to the centre of 
the canoe, braced his feet wide, kept his balance 
under the shock, and then, while Dennie was still 
wavering on his feet, for his canoe, too, rocked at 
the impact, Art rushed forward and caught him under 
the chin. He went over neatly, and Reggie with 
him, into the water. 

“ Good for Art 1 ” 

41 Do it again ! ” 

“ That’s the stuff ! ” 

The boys on the shore shouted and encouraged. 
Peanut, laughing and yelling, and paddling so ex- 
citedly that he was splashing water like a porpoise, 
got back into position. 

The next charge, however, told a different story. 
Reggie swung so far wide of the other boat that Art’s 
pole could not reach, turned quickly, too quickly for 
poor Peanut to meet the attack, and caught Peanut’s 
canoe amidships. Dennie had his pole on Arthur’s 
side before Art could get braced for the changed 
position, and into the water went Peanut and Arthur. 

The third, and final, heat was long drawn out. 
There were three charges without result. On the 
fourth, however, Arthur got in his best work. He 


THE CANOE TILT 


135 


saw that the higher you caught the other man, the 
easier it was to upset his balance, so he waited till 
the boats were close, took good aim, and poked his 
pole square at Dennie’s face. The soft wad of cloth 
(soaked with water by now) squeezed out like a 
sponge over Dennie’s countenance, and while the 
boys on the bank shrieked with laughter he toppled 
gracefully over backward, caught the rim of the canoe 
to save himself, and upset himself, Reggie and the 
canoe. 

“ Art and Peanut win ! ” cried the Chipmunks, 
plunging into the lake to bring in the capsized canoe. 

“ That’s a great game ! ” said Peanut. “ If I could 
paddle as well as Reggie, we could lick anybody !” 

“ If I could poke as straight as Art, we could lick 
anybody,” retorted Dennie. 

The boys now dressed, and revolver practice for 
everybody followed, and then practice in judging 
the length of poles and distances along the beach, 
by eye. The boys were surprised to find what a 
difference there was in their powers in this direction. 
Peanut, who was the born carpenter of the patrol, 
could judge the length of poles and the height of 
bushes sometimes within a few inches, because he 
had used a rule so much. Some of the other boys 
were as much as fifty per cent, out of the way. But 
when it came to gauging distances along the beach, 
Art and Mr. Rogers were the accurate ones. Arthur 


136 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

was accurate because he was used to a rifle, and 
had learned to estimate distances accordingly. Mr. 
Rogers told the boys he got his standard because in 
college he used to run the one-hundred and two- 
hundred-and-twenty-yard dashes. After this prac- 
tice, which made everybody’s eyes keener and more 
careful in comparing relative sizes and distances, 
some of the boys took signal flags out in the boats, 
and signaled to the rest on shore, trying to increase 
their speed, till supper time. 

After supper, round the camp-fire, Mr. Rogers 
told the boys about some of the athletic meets he 
had taken part in, the close finishes, the excitement, 
the cheering crowds, the joy of winning, of doing 
your very utmost, for your club or college. 

And it was then that Peanut had his inspiration. 

“ Say ! ” he cried, “ couldn’t we have a track meet 
with the Brookville scouts, down on the Brookville 
Agricultural Fair grounds ? ” 

“ Hooray 1 Let’s do it ! We can lick ’em easy 1 ” 
cried the other boys. 

“ We might at that,” said Rob. “ Some of the 
Crows and Woodchucks are good runners. Joe 
Rathbun’s the best sprinter in town, and Joe Dono- 
van can keep on running after everybody else is all 
in, on a hare and hound chase. And Peanut here 
could win the dash for the little kids.” 

“ Little kids ! ” said Peanut. “ Ho, I can beat you ! ” 


THE CANOE TILT 


137 

“ You don’t have any kind of an athletic team in 
the high school, do you?” asked Mr. Rogers. 

“ No,” said Rob, “ not even basket-ball.” 

“ Well, I don’t know but Peanut’s idea is a good 
one,” he continued thoughtfully. “ We’ll have to 
have a general scout meeting about it when we get 
home.” 

“ Great head, Peanut,” said Art. 

Peanut laughed. “ Guess I better be getting some 
practice sprinting,” he remarked. “ But not now. 
Gee, I’m sleepy ! ” 

Soon the camp was silent, save for the sighing of 
the wind in the tree tops and the lap of the water on 
the shore. 


CHAPTER XIII 


Arthur Gets His Wildcat 

B UT some time before dawn Arthur Bruce sat 
straight up in his blanket, and listened with 
startled intenseness. All was silent for a moment, 
and then he heard again the sound which had waked 
him. It was like two cats fighting, a snarling, spit- 
ting, meowing sound, which made the goose flesh 
come on your skin, here in the dark forest. He 
jumped out of his bunk and seized his rifle. At the 
same moment Mr. Rogers roused, too, and came 
from the opposite lean-to. The other boys were 
sleeping so soundly they did not wake. 

“ Wildcats ! ” whispered Arthur. 

“I guess you’re right,” said the man, feeling for 
his automatic pistol, and grabbing up the shotgun. 

The two stole out in the direction of the sound. 
It seemed to come from the neighborhood of the 
spring. As they stole through the trees, they heard 
it again, but a little farther off. 

Arthur put up his gun and fired. There was a 
wild scream, as if of fright, and the faint sound of 
rushing through the undergrowth. Then silence. 
But the shot roused the boys. They came tum- 
* 3 8 


ARTHUR GETS HIS WILDCAT 139 

bling out of camp, with cries of “ What’s the 
matter? ” 

“ Wildcats,” said Arthur, laconically. “ Can’t 
follow ’em in the dark.” 

The rest went excitedly back to bed, but Arthur, 
though Mr. Rogers assured him the cats would not 
come back that night, insisted on staying up by the 
fire, his rifle across his knees. 

With the first light of dawn, he went down to the 
spring to investigate for tracks. The sight which 
greeted his eyes left no doubt why the cats had been 
there. The milk-can in the outlet was upset, though 
the animals had been unable to get the stopper out. 
A tin of canned meat, half used, had been dragged 
to the bank and the contents clawed out and eaten. 
The bones of a fish left for breakfast in a pan in the 
water lay on the bank beside the tin. There were 
tracks of a scuffle about, and Arthur followed them. 
A little way into the woods he found the torn body 
of another fish. Evidently one cat had been eating 
when the other came, they had scuffled for the fish, 
and had both been scared away when he fired his 
rifle. Not three feet over the spot where the fish lay, 
he found the mark where his bullet had pinged the 
bark of a tree. 

“ Almost got ’em on a blind shot in the dark,” he 
muttered, hurrying back to camp. 

There was no thought of anything but the wildcats 


i 4 o THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

that morning. A hasty breakfast was instantly 
made, and Reggie and Rob were sent in the canoe 
to bring the game warden and his hound. When 
the warden arrived, the boys were impatiently wait- 
ing at the spring, Art with his rifle, Mr. Rogers with 
his automatic pistol, Rob with the shotgun, two more 
boys with revolvers, and the rest with hatchets. 

The warden, who had a double-barreled shotgun 
loaded with buckshot under his arm, looked at them 
and laughed. 

“ Take a right smart wildcat to get away from 
this outfit ! ” he said. 

The dog picked up the scent with a deep bay, and 
went sniffing and dashing through the forest. After 
a short distance he began to dash first in one direc- 
tion, then in the other. 

“ The two of them separated here,” said the 
warden. “ We want the trail to the hill. The other’s 
headed for the swamp. Here, Knight ! ” 

Knight, reassured, followed the trail up the hill. 

“ It’s going right to the nest I ” panted Arthur. 

But it only passed by the nest. Knight sniffed 
once or twice into the log, barking excitedly, but 
picked up the trail beyond, and followed it again. 

“ That’s the fresh trail, all right,” said his master. 
“ That’s most likely a last year’s nest ; the bones in 
front looked old, and it’s probably last year’s kittens 
we are chasing.” 


ARTHUR GETS HIS WILDCAT 141 

Peanut, as usual, was ahead. The trail now took 
them up a steeper slope, and into rocky country, 
covered with tangles of vines as well as tough 
spruces. The small, active scout could get through 
quicker than the rest. He suddenly shouted back, 
“Come on ! The dog’s got him ! ” 

The rest came crashing up over a rock, through a 
tangle of mountain laurel bushes, and there, in front 
of a small cave under the next rock up the slope, 
stood Knight, barking angrily, every hair on his 
body bristling, while inside the cave they could see 
the glitter of the cat’s eyes. The dog, blocking the 
opening, gave them no chance to fire, and before 
they could take any action the cat, terrified at 
their coming, made a sudden spring, struck poor 
Knight a terrific blow with its paw, laying open the 
side of his face and shoulder and knocking him 
down like a stone, and, a snarling streak of dirty 
gray and brown, went up the hill like a bullet. Both 
shotguns and three pistols roared, but the cat leaped 
on. Arthur held his fire and dashed after. 

“ No kittens there, or the old one wouldn’t run 
away,” cried the warden, and followed. 

The frightened cat came to a sheer wall of stone 
it couldn’t jump, some two hundred yards ahead, 
and obeying its instinct went up a tree. Arthur saw 
it go. He rushed on till he had a sight of it in 
the branches, dropped to the ground, got a rest for 


i 4 2 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

his gun, and sighted. The carry was too far either 
for shotguns or revolvers. He knew the cat was 
his if he could make the shot. He fired. There 
was a scream in the branches, and the scouts saw 
the cat tumble to the ground. With a cry they 
rushed ahead. 

“ Look out for his legs ! Don’t go near it ! ” 
yelled the game warden. 

But before they had covered the hundred yards, 
his convulsions were nearly over. Arthur’s thirty- 
thirty had done its work, through the head. 

“ Good shot, my boy,” said the warden. “ He’s 
dead. Now let’s see what we can do for poor 
Knight.” 

The boys, picking up the cat, hastened back. The 
dog had crawled up the slope a little way after them, 
and given up. He was badly cut in the face, and 
his shoulder was laid open and bleeding profusely. 

“ I guess this is a chance for first aid,” said Rob, 
getting out his kit. 

The boys worked over Knight till they had pads on 
tight enough to stop the flow of blood, and his poor 
face bandaged. Then two of them carried him back 
to camp on a stretcher, while Arthur and Peanut 
proudly carried the wildcat, his paws tied together, 
slung under a pole between them. 

The cat measured about twenty-four inches from 
the end of his nose to the root of his stub tail. He 


ARTHUR GETS HIS WILDCAT 143 

had huge paws for the size of his body, which was 
barred and mottled rusty brown and gray. The 
warden decided he was a last year’s kitten, probably 
born in the old chestnut log nest. As the kittens are 
usually born in the spring, that would make the dead 
cat about fourteen months old. 

“ The other one was no doubt his brother or sister, 
but we can’t get it now, without Knight. Poor old 
Knight! He’s used to cows. He didn’t expect 
such a blow as that ! ” 

“ Where do you suppose the old cats are ? ” asked 
Arthur. 

“ They may be ’round. More likely they’re dead, 
or have wandered off somewhere else,” said the 
warden. “ You boys needn’t be afraid anyhow. 
They’ll never attack you unless you try to get their 
kittens.” 

“ Oh, I’m not afraid,” said Arthur. “ I’d just like 
to get a shot at some more ! ” 

That afternoon there was little done in camp. 
Arthur skinned his prize and spread the skin out on 
a tree to tan, while the rest watched him and talked 
excitedly about the chase. But everybody went for a 
belated swim at five o’clock, and after supper there 
was some more unexpected excitement. 

Peanut and Dennie were down at the beach in the 
twilight, skipping stones in the water, to see who 
could score the larger number of jumps, when they 


i 4 4 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

suddenly spied a big deer coming out of the forest 
two hundred yards away. They stopped throwing, 
to watch him with bated breath. He looked about a 
moment, a beautiful, graceful figure against the dark 
forest wall, and then entered the water and began to 
swim. 

“ Hi, fellers, a deer in the lake ; come on and chase 
him 1 ” yelled Peanut and Dennie, springing into a 
canoe. 

The rest came rushing down the bank. Guns, of 
course, were left behind, for there is only one week 
in November when you can shoot deer in Massachu- 
setts. But there is no law in Massachusetts against 
chasing them in rowboats. As the boys soon found 
out, a deer has nothing to fear from this source I 

Peanut and Dennie had a good start in the canoe, 
and they were paddling as hard as ever they could. 
The rest, in flatboats and the second canoe, came 
following after. But the deer’s head, plainly visible 
on the still water, bright with the reflection of the 
dying sunset, got no nearer. He lifted his nostrils 
every few feet and snorted, and behind him trailed 
the ripples, in expanding circles, made as his breast 
ploughed the surface of the pond. 

Panting and digging in their paddles, Peanut and 
Dennie were working to the limit of their strength, 
but they seemed to gain hardly an inch. The deer 
had a good start on them, as he entered the water 


ARTHUR GETS HIS WILDCAT 145 

farther down the lake, and this lead he kept. Seeing 
the chase was hopeless, they finally stopped ex- 
hausted, and the other boats came alongside. 

“Wow, I’d like to swim like that!” cried Dennie, 
between puffs. 

“ He’s got a motor auxiliary on,” declared Willie. 

The deer kept straight ahead. In the shoal water 
by the opposite shore he stood up, his legs apart, and 
shook himself, the drops flying off like silver in the 
twilight. Then he made a spring up the bank and 
vanished into the woods. It was a beautiful picture, 
and the boys watched in silence. 

As they turned for home, Rob asked permission to 
go to see Knight, so while the canoe was held fast to 
a flatboat, he and Peanut swapped seats, and with 
Dennie he set off down the lake. At the end of an 
hour the boys in camp heard a whistle over the 
water, and then the grate of a keel. 

“Patient doing well,” said Rob, as he came into 
the circle of the firelight. 

By that time everybody was ready for bunk, ex- 
cept Arthur. He declared that he was going to 
watch for that other wildcat. He put two fish down 
by the spring, and wrapped himself up in his blanket 
behind a rock near by, in such a direction that if he 
fired it would be away from camp. Then, with his 
rifle across his knees, he waited, while slumber came 
over the camp, and the night wind soughed through 


146 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


the hemlocks, and far off in the woods a screech-owl 
uttered its mournful “ whoo-ooo-oo.” In the morning 
Mr. Rogers found him sleeping soundly, his head 
against the rock, his rifle still over his knees. The 
fish were untouched. 


CHAPTER XIV 

Swimming Tests and Breaking Camp 



'HIS story would be more exciting if we could 


tell how the boys finally got that second wild- 
cat, but it wouldn’t be true. The truth is, Arthur’s 
first shot in the night had evidently scared it away 
from the region of the camp, and though in the next 
three days the Chipmunks explored all the country 
’round, each pair of scouts making a one day hike of 
seven miles away from camp by compass, and back, 
taking notes and drawing a field map ; though they 
blazed a trail from the shore up to the hilltop oppo- 
site, where Peanut, Reggie and Arthur had built the 
first signal fire ; and though they saw several more 
deer (once a doe and her two little fawns, with white 
tails like rabbits came down to drink at twilight not 
a hundred rods from camp), they never saw any 
trace of the wildcat again. They learned, however, 
much about traveling in the woods, learned to dis- 
tinguish the balsam from the spruce by the three 
little knobs at the end of each twig, learned to dis- 
tinguish and describe, indeed, not ten but nearer 
twenty different kinds of trees, learned how to use 
firearms carefully, how to shoot straight, how to 


i 4 8 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

row a boat and paddle a canoe, how to cook fish, 
bacon, eggs, griddle-cakes, camp biscuit, how to 
keep camp clean and free from flies, and finally all 
the boys passed their fifty yard swimming test. 

That test was held on the last morning at Camp 
Wildcat — for so the boys had named it. They also 
called Arthur “ Wildcat ” for a day, which they 
then abbreviated to “ Kitty,” and Kitty he remained, 
which sounds like a very girlie name, if you don’t 
know that it was earned by bringing down a wild- 
cat at one hundred yards with a rifle. 

Reggie and Willie Walker were the only boys 
whose swimming the scout-master had any doubt 
about. Reggie had never swum much, before this 
week, and Willie had always been afraid of getting 
over his depth, and kept putting his feet down to see 
if the bottom was still there. 

Two boats were moored at either end of the fifty 
yard course, and one by one the scouts dove off the 
first and swam to the second. Reggie finally got 
there, puffing but triumphant. Willie swam half- 
way, then lowered his feet to the bottom, stood in 
water up to his neck, and said, “ I can’t do it.” 

“Yes, you can, Willie, go ahead !” sang out the 
others. 

“ Oh, all right,” he answered, struck out again, 
and completed the course. 

“ Now, swim back,” said Rob. 


SWIMMING TESTS 


149 


Willie did it, all the way this time. He looked 
rather sheepish. “ ’Tain’t so hard,” he said, as he 
climbed into the boat, “ if you just think you can do it.” 

“ Remember that,” said Mr. Rogers. “ It’s good 
philosophy. Now let’s see who can dive from the 
surface in eight feet of water and bring up some- 
thing from the bottom.” 

Rob got a white towel that could be easily seen, 
knotted it round a stone, and sunk it where the bot- 
tom was sandy. Then each boy swam over the spot 
and tried to dive down to it from the surface of the 
water — quite a different thing from diving off a boat 
or spring-board. Arthur did it on the first try, but 
the rest soon found that it wasn’t so easy as it 
looked. Most of them had to practice a dozen times 
before they could get headed straight down over the 
spot where they wanted to go, and even then they 
couldn’t at first reach the bottom and grab the towel. 
The trick, of course, is to bury your head and 
shoulders, elevate your hips above the water, if pos- 
sible throwing your legs up as if you were going to 
walk on your hands on land, and then take a few 
quick, hard breast strokes till you are headed 
straight for the bottom, and can use your feet. 
After the rest had practiced, Art tried again in ten 
feet of water, and succeeded in bringing up the 
towel in that depth. 

“ He’s no Kitty. He’s a water-dog,” cried Peanut. 


150 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

After the surface diving, Mr. Rogers showed the 
boys various ways of carrying another person, such 
as an exhausted swimmer, in the water ; and then 
there was practice in breaking “ death grips.” Pea- 
nut, for instance, grabbed Art by the wrists as hard 
as he could, and Art had to break the grip by rais- 
ing his arms out of the water, thus sinking Peanut 
almost under, and throwing all the pressure of his 
arms against Peanut’s thumbs. 

Then Prattie tried a death grip on Art from 
behind, clasping him around the neck, and hanging 
there like a dead weight, while Art had to tread 
water for the two of them. First Art tried grabbing 
Prattie’s wrists and at the same time bumping into 
his stomach, but he couldn’t get loose that way, so 
he suddenly flung his head back and caught Prattie 
in the nose. Prattie let go with a yell of pain, and 
began to leave a red streak on the water. 

“ Oh, I’m sorry,” said Art. “ I didn’t mean to 
catch you so hard.” 

“ That’s all right,” Prattie replied, treading water 
and trying to wipe his bleeding nose. “ Guess you’ve 
got the way to break that grip all right ! ” 

“ Well,” laughed Mr. Rogers, “ when a drowning 
man gets hold of you, you’ve got to make him let 
go some way or you’ll drown, too.” 

“ Gee,” shrilled Willie, “ I wish somebody’d 7iearly 
drown, so’s we could re-re-resuscitate him.” 


SWIMMING TESTS 


151 

“ Go on, Peanut, be nice and get drowned for 
Willie,” said Art. 

'‘Yes, come on ; don’t be mean,” urged Willie. 

But there were limits even to Peanut’s willingness 
to be obliging. 

“ Not on your life ! ” he laughed. “ Anyhow, I 
haven’t time to be drowned. It’s dinner hour.” 

And he splashed ashore, and began to dress. 

Dinner was a hasty affair. As soon as it was over, 
the work of packing began. The boats were loaded, 
all the camp refuse and the boughs which had been 
used for beds burned up, the latrine trench filled 
level, and then the fires carefully put out. 

“ We want Reggie to tell his father that we left 
everything shipshape, don’t we, boys ? ” said Rob. 

The scouts assented. Reggie himself had been 
drawn by lot as sanitary superintendent for the final 
day, and he did the dirty work without a grumble, 
though two months ago, before he joined the scouts, 
he would have considered such work fit only for 
servants. 

As the little flotilla of boats moved out on the 
lake, well rowed this time by boys with tanned faces 
and arms brown as Indians, a last cheer went up for 
Camp Wildcat. 

As the final hurrah echoed back from the forest, 
Peanut cheerfully added, “ Till next summer ! ” — 
which obviously called for another cheer. 


i 5 2 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

At the game warden’s house the teams were await- 
ing them. Poor Knight, his sores healing, lay on 
the door-step and wagged his tail. The boys went 
over to pet him, and Arthur, who was carrying his cat 
skin, started to stroke his head. The dog gave one 
sniff at the skin, set up a howl, and fled ’round the 
corner. 

“ Poor old Knight ! ” cried Peanut, always tender 
with dogs, going after him. But Knight had gone 
under the back veranda, and was not to be coaxed 
out. 

With three more cheers for the game warden, 
the boys piled into the wagons and started for home. 
The first house they came to looked strange. It 
didn’t seem as if they’d ever lived in houses them- 
selves. The first town looked stranger still. But in 
the next village Peanut disappeared over the tail 
board, rushed ahead of the wagon, and came chas- 
ing on in a few minutes with a bag of candy. 

“ Oh, you candy kid ! ” sang Willie. 

“ Think of eating candy coming out from camp ! ” 
said Arthur, scornfully. 

But presently he added, “ Say, Peanut, give me a 
piece ? ” 


CHAPTER XV 


The Track Team Try-Outs 
T the first general scout meeting after the 



Jl X. Chipmunks’ return from camp, as soon as the 
setting up drill was over and Arthur had displayed 
his wildcat skin and everybody had told everybody 
else all about the hunt, Mr. Rogers brought up the 
question of a track meet with Brookville. 

The older patrols were especially enthusiastic over 
the idea. Many of the larger scouts had to work 
during the summer — most of them did, in fact — and 
they had not been camping. Over-Sunday hikes 
were about the best they could do. 

“You Chipmunks are getting ahead of us,” Joe 
Rathbun said. “Young Peanut here will be a first- 
class scout before I am, and I could put him in my 
pocket ” 

“ Come on an ’ try it ! ” said Peanut. 

“ and it’s time we showed the kids they aren’t 

the whole show,” Joe finished with a laugh. 

Joe Donovan, who was presiding at the meeting, 
then spoke, with his usual common sense. “ It seems 
to me the first thing to do is to find out if the Brook- 


154 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

ville scouts want a track meet,” he said. “ If they do, 
we’ve got to pick a team, and do a lot of training. 
None of us knows anything about track athletics. 
School begins in another week, too. I think we 
ought to appoint a committee to see the Brookville 
scouts right off.” 

“ I move the three patrol leaders be a committee,” 
said somebody. 

“ Second the motion.” 

The motion was carried unanimously. So Joe 
Donovan, Teddy Bear Bolton and Rob took the 
trolley next day to Brookville, and held a conference. 
Brookville was considerably larger than Southmead. 
There were seventy-five boys in the scout troop there. 
They, too, were pleased at the idea of a track meet, 
and they escorted the Southmead leaders down to the 
Agricultural Fair grounds, to see the track. It was 
a track built for horse-racing, of earth, and was a 
half-mile oval. Running tracks are regularly built 
of cinders, and are quarter-mile ovals. But it would 
do well enough. As the leaders came to talk over 
the situation, however, they began to realize that a 
track team wasn’t made in a day, and that before 
they could contend with each other, they ought to 
have separate track meets of their own, to find out 
what boys were the best, and for what distances each 
was best fitted. 

So Joe, the Teddy Bear and Rob came back with 


THE TRACK TEAM TRY-OUTS 155 


their report, and advised a local meet for the fall, and 
the postponement of the meet with Brookville till 
spring. 

“ I think you’re very wise, boys,” said Mr. 
Rogers. “ Now, let’s get busy and find out where 
we stand. Where shall we have our home meet? 
We’ve got no track.” 

“ Down on the flats,” suggested Joe. “The road 
is good there, and it’s level and straight. You can 
get in a full half mile.” 

The flats were chosen, and then began the boys’ 
first experience with organized athletics. Organized 
athletics are quite different from the haphazard 
racing and jumping and playing of the school yard 
and fields, as the scouts soon found out. With the 
patrol leaders as aids, Mr. Rogers put the contestants 
through a “ course of sprouts” that left no doubt of 
the difference. They could not train in the mornings, 
because of school, and because some of the older 
boys were at work, so they gathered on the long, 
straight road across the flats every afternoon between 
five and six, in sneakers and running shirts. Most 
of the other boys in the village gathered, too, to look 
on, and not a few of the men. 

The road was marked by white stakes into fifty, 
one hundred, two hundred and twenty, four hundred 
and forty, and eight hundred and eighty yard 
stretches. In a field at one side an eight-inch plank, 


156 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

painted white, was laid firmly on the ground for a 
“ take off ” and the dirt dug up out beyond it for the 
jumpers to land in. There was a seven-foot circle of 
whitewash on the grass for the shot putters to practice 
in, with the twelve-pound shot, and standards were 
made by Peanut, by mounting two uprights each on 
a level base and boring holes through them at half- 
inch intervals. By thrusting a wire nail through the 
hole three feet from the ground in each upright, and 
laying a long, light bar across, you had your three- 
foot height, and the bar could be raised by half-inch 
gradations as high as anybody could clear it. 

All the Chipmunks who weighed less than ninety 
pounds (which included Peanut, Arthur Bruce, and 
several more) were not allowed to compete in the dis- 
tances over fifty yards, but they had both a running 
high and broad jump of their own, and a standing 
broad jump, and standing three broad jumps, an eight 
potato race, and a fifty yard three-legged race. 

The events for the older scouts were the hun- 
dred, two-hundred-and-twenty, and four-hundred- 
and-forty-yard dashes, the half-mile and mile run, 
twelve-pound shot put, and running high and broad 
jumps. Neither the pole vault nor the hurdles were 
attempted. 

When the Saturday for the meet arrived, all the 
boys in the village, whether scouts or not, were down 
on the flats. The boys who weren’t scouts mostly 


THE TRACK TEAM TRY-OUTS 157 

wished they were, and tried races of their own be- 
tween heats, in imitation. 

Mr. Rogers, with two or three men to help him, 
got the races started and took the time with a stop 
watch. The first race run was the one-hundred- 
yard dash, and Joe Rathbun, as expected, broke the 
string a full three yards ahead of the rest. His 
time, according to Mr. Rogers’ watch, was eleven 
and one-fifth seconds, which, on a common dirt 
road, is fast going. Rob, though smaller, was a 
good second. In the two-hundred-and-twenty Joe 
again romped in far ahead, but this time Rob wasn’t 
strong enough to keep the pace for second place. 
It went to Milton Noble, who was a powerful boy 
whose weight counted in the longer dash. 

The mile came next. Here Joe Donovan was 
conceded first place, but the contest for second and 
third was in doubt. The racers ran up the long 
road, around a mark, and back, half the small boys 
in the village running along at one side, and yelling 
encouragement to this or that favorite. Joe started 
out at an easy pace. Fred Browning and Peanut’s 
brother Jack, however, “ hit it up ” hard, some of 
the others following. 

“ That’s the stuff, Jack ! ” or, “ Go it, Fred ! ” 
yelled the small boys. But at the half-mile turn 
Fred and Jack were “ all in,” and Joe Donovan, 
Stephen French (one of the Crows) and Lester Par- 


158 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

ker (one of the Woodchucks) passed them. Stephen 
was a little too small to keep the pace. Two hun- 
dred yards from the finish Joe sprinted, Lester an- 
swered, but Stephen had to go his way, for third 
place. The race was a pretty one between the two 
leaders for one hundred yards. Then Joe gradually 
put on more steam, and won by two yards, fresh as 
a daisy. 

In the quarter-mile dash, the four-hundred-and- 
forty, Joe Rathbun again ran, picked to win by the 
small boys, but he was a sprinter solely, without the 
staying powers for the longer distance. Milt Noble 
won it, and Teddy Bear Bolton was a close second. 
The half-mile went, like the mile, to Joe Donovan, 
with Fred Browning second. 

Then the Chipmunks took the field. Poor Peanut, 
in his eagerness to get away, “ jumped ” the pistol 
in the fifty-yard dash, and was set back a yard, but 
he won in spite of this handicap, beating out Willie 
Walker by a nose. In the three-legged race he and 
Art won easily, too, because, though Art was a slow 
runner, they had practiced for a week together, and 
while each of the other three teams fell down, they 
hopped straight along to the finish. 

Then came the jumps. There were surprises 
here. Of the Chipmunks, Lou Merritt easily led, 
though Peanut was picked to win. Peanut flew 
down the path like the wind, but he didn’t have the 


THE TRACK TEAM TRY-OUTS 159 

springing power in his leg that Lou had. Among 
the older boys, Joe Rathbun won first in both high 
and broad jump, with “ Dutch ” Hoffman second. 
Milt Noble was the only boy who had the knack of 
putting the shot, and won out in that event by almost 
four feet. 

When the meet was over, and the flats were left 
to the “ townies ” — as the scouts called the boys 
who were not in their organization — all the contest- 
ants gathered at the club rooms to be rubbed down. 

“ Well,” said Mr. Rogers, “ we’ve got two sure 
point winners in four events, the two Joes 1 Brook- 
ville can’t beat us, I believe, in the one-hundred, 
two-hundred-and-twenty, eight-hundred-and-eighty, 
and mile, if the two Joes keep in good trim this 
winter. They can beat us in nearly everything else 
unless we practice hard. They’ve got seventy-five 
men to pick from, to our twenty-five. Now, boys, 
you’ve seen track athletics are no joke. Are you 
game for cross country runs once a week this winter, 
to keep your wind good, and for another hard month 
of training in the spring ? ” 

“ You bet ! ” came the chorus. 

“ All right,” said the scout-master ; “ we’ll beat 
Brookville, or we’ll know the reason why ! ” 

The scouts gave three cheers. 


CHAPTER XVI 

Getting Ready for the Meet 


ND all that winter which followed, the boys 



ii never lost sight of the track meet. Once a 
week at least the older boys gathered at the club 
house and swung off over the frozen or snowy roads 
for a run, beginning with two miles at first, and 
finally lengthening the distance to almost six. Some 
of them ran to school every morning from their 
homes. The Chipmunks, too, who could not keep 
up with the larger scouts, had runs of their own, 
and down behind their house Peanut and his brother 
Jack practiced starts every day, till they could get off 
their mark as quick as a cat off a fence. Inside the 
club house, beside basket-ball to keep the boys in 
good wind, they had an old mattress to land on, and 
practiced high jumping. Outside, with the coming 
of cold weather in December, there was hockey on 
the flooded meadows, which is about as good as 
anything for the wind. The Chipmunks had a 
seven, and played the “ townies ” several games, and 
the older scouts had a team, too, and tried issue with 
the Brookville high school team — rather disastrously, 
for the Brookville high school had regular teams 


160 


GETTING READY FOR THE MEET 161 


every year, a system of coaching, and better trained 
players. 

When the mud was out of the ground at last, and 
the spring had come, active training began for the 
great track meet. Alas ! the boys were grown older 
now, and growing boys will not stay the same 
weight ! Peanut still tipped the scales under ninety 
pounds, but Arthur Bruce weighed ninety-three. 

“ Kitty’s almost a cat ! ” sang Willie Walker. 

Willie himself weighed ninety-five, and was also 
too heavy to compete in the fifty-yard dash and the 
jumps for the smaller boys ; and, unfortunately, not 
large enough to stand any show with the older boys. 
They kept at work, however, in the hope that some 
way out might be found. 

Mr. Rogers found that his hardest job now was to 
keep the boys from doing too much. All the mile 
and half-mile men except Joe Donovan wanted to go 
their distance every day, and yet Mr. Rogers 
wouldn’t allow them to run it at top speed more 
than once a week. Sometimes they had to jog two 
miles, sometimes he made them sprint a while, and 
then stop work altogether. On the weekly occasions 
when he let them run their distance, he held the 
watch on them, and if they hadn’t cut off at least a 
second from the week before, he sent them home 
ashamed. The sprinters he kept practicing starts 
over and over ; and then he would send them for a 


162 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


quarter-mile run. It seemed as if they did every- 
thing but what they were training for ! However, 
the work went absorbingly on, and every afternoon 
there was a fringe of small boys along the road to 
watch, and every afternoon some of them would 
approach Mr. Rogers and say, “Mr. Rogers, when 
can we be taken in ? ” 

You see, there were no athletic teams in the 
Southmead high school, there was no town team of 
any sort. This track team of the boy scouts was the 
only chance the boys had ever had to cheer for an 
organization which they felt as something of their 
own — for it was at least made up of their playfellows. 
All the more, then, they wanted to be in the organi- 
zation themselves. They had seen the scouts go off 
to camp for a week’s fun, they had seen them have 
weekly hikes ; there was the club house, too, and the 
basket-ball and mysterious signaling ; and now here, 
at last, was a real athletic team ! If they could only be 
scouts and get on the team ! 

“ Boys,” said Mr. Rogers one night, during the 
rub down at the club house, “ we’ve got to take in a 
new patrol. As soon as this meet is over, we’ve got 
to hold our first-class scout tests, and then some of 
you who pass can help me, as assistant scout-masters. 
It’s part of the test to bring a recruit trained as a 
tenderfoot, so each of you pick out your tenderfoot 
now, and be getting him ready. We aren’t doing 


GETTING READY FOR THE MEET 163 


our duty as good scouts to keep all the fun to our- 
selves. There are too many small boys in town who 
need help. First we’ll lick Brookville, and then we’ll 
get in a new patrol.” 

“ I got my tenderfoot already,” said Peanut, as his 
red head emerged from the sweaty jersey he was 
peeling off his back. 

“ Who’s that ? ” asked the scout-master. 

“ My young brother, Tim,” he replied. 

“ Tim’s smaller’n Peanut, even,” said Willie. 
“ Once he fell into the clothes-basket and got lost ! ” 
“ Well, he can tie five different knots, and send in 
semaphore, anyhow,” said Peanut, proudly, “and he 
won’t be twelve till July.” 

“ Peanut,” said Mr. Rogers, “ if you pass the first- 
class test, I’ll make you an assistant scout-master ! ” 
“ Gee ! ” cried Peanut, “ I’ll make ’em step lively ! ” 
The meet was now only a few days off, and not 
only the scouts but most of their parents and all the 
village boys were excited. It had been agreed to 
omit the hurdle races, since hurdles were so expen- 
sive to buy or make. The Brookville scouts, how- 
ever, stood out for a pole vault, in which they seemed 
sure of all three places, as the Southmead boys had 
not practiced that event at all, and now, at the last 
moment, had no time to buy a pole. Only “ Dutch ” 
Hoffman, in his yard, secretly practiced with a 
hickory clothes pole, and kept the result to himself. 


i6 4 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

There were to be the regular runs up to a mile, with 
a fifty-yard dash and a potato race for boys under 
ninety pounds, and a fifty-yard dash for boys under 
sixteen years, to let in those boys who weighed over 
ninety pounds, but were still too small to compete with 
the older scouts. Southmead wanted also field events 
(barring the shot put) for the youngsters, but Brook- 
ville wouldn’t agree. They said it would make the 
meet too long for one afternoon. Each first was to 
count five points, second, three points, and third, 
one point. 

The Brookville scouts sent up three hundred tick- 
ets for the meet to be sold at ten cents each, and the 
boys hurried around town with these, which found 
ready buyers. Each troop of scouts was to get half 
the “ gate money,” if any was left after paying for 
the badges. Finally, only three days before the 
event, the news came that a citizen of Brookville 
had put up a silver cup for a relay race, to count ten 
points for the winning team in the total tally, the 
relays to consist of a half mile, a hundred-yard dash, 
a quarter mile, and a mile. 

“ We’ve got to get that cup, anyway,” cried the 
boys. “ Even if we don’t win the whole meet, we 
want that ! ” 

It required some pretty close figuring to readjust 
the team. If Joe Donovan ran the half and the mile 
in the regular meet, he could hardly be in shape for 


GETTING READY FOR THE MEET 165 


the mile relay. It was decided to take him out of 
the regular mile, and keep him fresh for the cup. 
That left Lester Parker as the only Southmead scout 
with a chance in the mile. The half on the relay 
team was assigned to Fred Browning, and it w r as 
decided to let Lester try the regular half in addition 
to his mile. The four-hundred-and-forty on the 
relay was a puzzle, because Teddy Bear Bolton and 
Milt Noble were now pretty nearly even for the dis- 
tance, with Milt still a shade better. Was he enough 
better to sacrifice his chance of scoring a possible 
five points in the regular four-hundred-and-forty ? 

“ Say, this track team business is complicated,” 
remarked Joe Donovan (who had been elected cap- 
tain), scratching his head. 

It was finally decided, to the delight of the Crows, 
to let Teddy Bear run the quarter on the relay, and 
there came a cheer from the Chipmunks when Rob 
was assigned to the one-hundred-yard dash. 

“You can’t lose enough in the one-hundred-yards 
to hurt us much,” said Joe, when Rob demurred at 
the honor, “and to take Joe Rathbun out of the 
regular dash means to lose five points sure. Besides, 
we need him in the jumps. If we only had more 
men ! They’ve got seventy-five. We have to make 
all our team do double work ! ” 

“ Cheer up, Joe, we can do it,” cried somebody, 
and, “You bet ! ” came from Peanut. 


CHAPTER XVII 
The Great Track Meet 


HE Saturday of the meet dawned fair and warm, 



1 a fine late May morning. It is to be feared, 
though, that few of the scouts paid much attention 
to the weather. 

“ Did you sleep, Joe?” asked Lester Parker, meet- 
ing the captain. 

“ Not much ; did you ? ” 

“ Slept some, but dreamed, though. Was doing 
the mile all night,” came the answer. 

After an early, and light, lunch, the boys gathered 
at the trolley. At least one hundred other boys and 
men, and a good many girls, were there, too. The 
scouts had their running suits and shoes in suit-cases 
and bags, and they kept in a group, looking very 
serious, and talking little to the other folks. Joe 
Rathbun complained of a sore foot. Somebody else 
said his head ached. Fred Browning was “ car 
sick ” on the way down, so he declared. He was 
upset, at any rate I Mr. Rogers knew the signs. 
The boys were going into their first meet. He had 
known that horrible sinking sensation in the pit of 
the stomach himself, and the sudden idea that your 
foot was lame, or your legs stiff. He moved among 


THE GREAT TRACK MEET 167 

the team, slapping them on the back and talking 
cheerfully. 

At the fair grounds they piled out, and found the 
grand stand already full. Men with white ribbons 
bearing the words “Starter," “Timer," “Judge," 
“ Clerk of Course," were moving about. The 
Brookville scouts were already in their suits limber- 
ing up. 

“ Come on, boys, let’s get at ’em ! ’’ cried Joe, 
leading the way to the dressing-room. 

“ Now, boys," he continued, when they were 
dressed, “ remember to run fair, and run hard, and keep 
going for Southmead ! They’ve got more men than 
we have. We’ve got to have more nerve than they 
have to beat ’em. Don’t jump the gun and get set 
back on the start, don’t foul, and in the runs let the 
other man make the pace. But go after him, in the 
stretch ! ’’ 

“ All out for the one-hundred-yard dash ! ’’ called 
the starter. 

Joe Rathbun, Jack Morrison and Rob took their 
marks for Southmead, in this event. There were 
three Brookville scouts against them. Rob made a 
bad beginning by jumping the gun in his nervous- 
ness, and getting set back a yard. It lost him a 
place. Joe, amid the wild yells of the Southmead 
rooters, easily took first. Second was a close race be- 
tween Jack and a Brookville boy. Jack’s practice 


1 68 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


in starting gained him a clean two yards at the be- 
ginning, but the other boy wore him down, and beat 
him out by six inches. Joe’s time was remarkably 
fast for a boy’s meet, ten and three-fifths seconds. 
Both sides cheered when it was announced. 

Score, Southmead 6 points ; Brookville, 3. 

The half mile (or eight-hundred-and-eighty-yard 
run) came next. That meant one revolution of the 
track. Joe Donovan, Lester Parker and David 
Temple, a big, lanky Woodchuck, lined up for this 
event. With Mr. Rogers’ aid, they had laid a little 
plan. Dave was to “ light out ” and run the first 
quarter at top speed, in the hopes that one or two of 
the Brookville runners would be drawn into the trap 
and follow him. Lester was to make pace for Joe 
behind. Then Joe was to sprint in the second quar- 
ter for first place, and Lester was to get what he 
could without winding himself too much for the com- 
ing mile. 

The plan worked well. Lanky Dave “lit out,” 
and two of the Brookville team followed him. He so 
tired them that when the track was two-thirds circled 
Lester passed all three, followed by Joe and the third 
Brookville runner. Then Joe hit up his pace, and so 
did the Brookville boy. Lester tried to keep up, but 
hadn’t the strength without too great an effort. He 
took third place, and let Joe fight it out for first, 
which Joe did successfully. 


THE GREAT TRACK MEET 


169 


Score, Southmead, 12 ; Brookville, 6. 

The scouts now began to be elated. They talked 
of winning. The Southmead crowd on the grand 
stand were cheering excitedly. 

Now came the fifty-yard dash for the youngsters 
under ninety pounds. They lined up, eight of them, 
all across the track, and it was over before you could 
count ten. Peanut, thanks to his quick start, was 
never headed, but the other two places went to 
Brookville. 

Score, Southmead, 17; Brookville, 10. 

Next came another fifty-yard dash for boys under 
sixteen, but weighing over ninety pounds. Willie 
Walker competed in this, and so did Arthur Bruce, 
though poor Arthur had no chance at all, being a 
slow runner. Alas ! the scouts got a set back. 
Brookville took both first and second places, Willie 
capturing third, and set the score at, Southmead, 18 ; 
Brookville, 18. 

Now came the mile run. Lester Parker was South- 
mead’s hope, with Steve French and Elijah Kellogg 
as his running mates. Steve had a bare chance of 
a place, it was felt. Elijah Kellogg could at best 
kill off some of the others, as in the half. 

“ Now, boys,” cried Joe Donovan, slapping them 
on the back, “ keep your heads. Don’t be run too 
hard at the start, and sprint on your nerves at the 
end. lVe } ve got to take five points /” 


i yo THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Twice round the track ! How far it looked ! 
Lester, long-legged, took his own time. He saw 
Elijah “ light out” fast, and a Brookville scout fol- 
low him. But he and Steve kept close together, and 
with them, just ahead, Dan Stanley, the Brookville 
runner they most feared. The positions were un- 
changed as they passed the cheering grand stand on 
the first lap. 

“ Go it, Stanley, you’ve got ’em licked ! ” howled 
the Brookville crowds. 

“ Has he, though 1 ” thought Lester. Round the 
next turn the three caught the rest of the field, 
passed all but one of them, a Brookville runner, and 
the four came into the stretch together. Then 
Lester put on steam. He caught Stanley, passed 
him, and saw the tape far ahead. But Stanley 
wasn’t so easily to be passed. Breast and breast 
they fought it out, but Lester, by a great spurt, felt 
the tape hit his ribs and break, and heard the crowd 
yelling. Poor Steve lost third place by a foot. 
Lester was wrapped in a bath robe by the cheering 
scouts, and led panting to the dressing-room. 

Score, Southmead, 23 ; Brookville, 22. 

Next came the four-hundred-and-forty. Here 
Milt Noble had everything his own way for first 
place. He started at top speed, and his powerful 
body was equal to the task of keeping the pace. He 
was never headed. But Brookville took both second 


THE GREAT TRACK MEET 


171 

and third. However, Southmead was still in the lead, 
twenty-eight points to twenty-six. There was a 
cheer from the scouts as the announcement was made. 

The two-hundred-and-twenty followed. This was 
hard on Southmead, as Milt was forced to run again 
immediately, but that was the order laid down by 
the rules of the Amateur Athletic Union, and the 
judges decided it must be followed. 

“ Oh, for more men on our team ! ” sighed Cap- 
tain Donovan. 

Joe Rathbun again won first place. As a sprinter, 
he was in a class by himself, one of those born run- 
ners who, if they are able to go to college, become 
famous. His time was twenty-three seconds, made 
on a dirt track, with sneakers, not spiked shoes. 
Milt, however, was too winded by the quarter to get 
a place, and Southmead’s other runner was left in 
the rear. 

Score, Southmead, 33 ; Brookville, 30. 

Now came a potato race for the little scouts. Pails 
were placed on a line, and down the track from the 
pails, at intervals of two yards, were laid eight po- 
tatoes for each pail. The racers had to dash to the 
potatoes, one at a time, run back with them, toss 
them into the pails, go to the next, repeat, and 
finally, after all the potatoes were in the pails, run 
to a finish line five yards behind. This race was 
immense fun, because all the boys, in their haste, 


172 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


tried to toss their potatoes into the pail from too far 
away, and then lost more than they gained by hav- 
ing to pick them up a second time. Peanut excelled 
here, partly because his practice in starting gave 
him a great advantage, partly because he realized 
at the very first that it was wisest to put the potato 
in on the first shot, and not try to toss it in from 
afar. He won by several feet, amid the applause 
and laughter of the crowd. Brookville won the 
other points. 

Score, Southmead, 38 ; Brookville, 34. 

Now came the field events. First was the pole 
vault. 

“ We have nobody for that,” said Joe Donovan, 
sadly, to the other captain. 

“Hold on!” cried Dutch, “my name is down- 
on the entry list.” 

Joe looked at the card. “ So it is,” he said. 
“Well, Dutch, go in and get a third if you can ! Do 
you know how to do it at all ? ” 

Dutch said nothing but walked over to the stand- 
ards and picked up a pole. There were four entries 
from Brookville, and two of them, it was obvious on 
the first jump at five feet, were too good for Dutch. 
But his back yard practice with the clothes pole 
stood him in such good stead that he managed to 
skin over at seven feet for third place, scoring a 
point for his team, and every point counts. 


THE GREAT TRACK MEET 


173 


Score, Southmead, 39 ; Brookville, 42. 

Thus Brookville was in the lead at last. The ex- 
citement grew intense. The high jump was next. 
It took a lot of time. Joe Rathbun was finally the 
only Southmead jumper left, with two Brookville 
scouts. The bar was put up to five feet. The other 
two cleared it. Joe tried three times, in a dead 
hush — but he knocked it off each time, and his team- 
mates groaned. 

Score, Southmead, 40 ; Brookville, 50. 

But Joe redeemed himself in the broad jump, with 
a fine leap of nineteen feet, and took first place. 
The other points went to the opponents. 

Score, Southmead, 45 ; Brookville, 54. 

Thus Brookville led by nine points, with the shot- 
put and the relay race yet to come. Southmead 
still had a chance ! It all depended on Milt Noble’s 
arm and the relay team. Milt would have to get 
first in the shot. 

Milt tried his best, but Brookville brought out a 
husky shot-putter who had been trained much bet- 
ter than Milt. He beat him by nearly a foot, and 
Brookville also got third place. 

Score, Southmead, 48 ; Brookville, 60. 

Now a hush fell over the crowd. Southmead had 
no chance to win the meet, but there was still the 
relay and that coveted silver cup shining in the sun 
on a table down by the judges. Joe assembled his 


174 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

team. “ Boys/’ he said, “ it’s our last chance. Run 
to beat your man ; run better than you know how. 
Run / ” 

Each boy went to his place around the track. 
First came the half, once around, then the one- 
hundred-yard dash, then the quarter, half around, 
finishing at the tape in front of the grand stand, 
and then, finally, the mile. In a relay race you run 
your distance, and touch the next man on your 
team. The instant you touch him, he starts off. 
Fred Browning started first, and he was to touch 
Rob, who would dash one hundred yards and touch 
the Teddy Bear, who would run a quarter and touch 
Joe Donovan, who would finish with the mile. 

There was hardly a breathing in the grand stand 
when the gun was fired. Fred and his opponent of 
course started on the far side of the track, in order 
to make the finish of the relay come in front of the 
grand stand. As they came by the stand, a cheer 
went up. 

“ Go it, Fred ! ” 

“ Go it, Jimmy ! ” 

“ Eat him alive ! ” 

“We got ’em licked anyhow, Brookville ! 

The runners paid no attention. They turned into 
the bend close together. On the back stretch Rob 
and his opponent could be seen standing on their 
Starting line, a hand stretched back for the touch, 


THE GREAT TRACK MEET 


175 


Fred and Jimmy began to sprint They reached 
their team mates almost on even terms, Fred a bit 
behind, and off started Rob and his rival. Rob ran 
as fast as he could, but the other kept just ahead 
of him. The Teddy Bear thus started his quarter 
handicapped by a yard or two. But he “lit out” 
after his man in great shape, caught him at the 
stretch, and kept with him all the way to the tape, 
where Joe and Brookville’s best mile runner, Whee- 
lock, were waiting. It was neck and neck. A cheer 
went up from both sides. As Teddy Bear fell for- 
ward, letting his hand touch Joe’s, who leaned back 
to receive the touch, Joe was off. The other man 
was off at the same instant. The final relay had 
begun. It was an even race for the cup between 
Joe and Wheelock. 

“ That’s the best relay, so far, that I ever saw ! ” 
cried out the man who had given the cup. “ I don’t 
care who wins it now ! ” 

The scouts were gathered together in a tense, ex- 
cited group. They watched the two runners go 
round the back stretch. Wheelock was leading, 
Joe was right at his heels. As they came by the 
stand again, the crowd cheered, rising in their seats. 
Everybody yelled something. 

“ Hang to him, Joe ! ” 

“ Tire him out, Wheelock ! ” 

“ Don’t let him worry you, Joe ! ” 


176 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ Wait till he sprints 1 ” 

“ Keep your lead, Wheelock; he can’t pass you 1 ” 

Around the back stretch they went a second time, 
their positions unchanged. At the turn, Wheelock 
put on steam, but so did Joe, and held him. The 
Southmead scouts let out a nervous cheer. 

Now they turned into the stretch. Everybody’s 
neck was craned up the track. There was a moment 
of silence. 

“ Sprint, Wheelock ! ” somebody yelled. 

Wheelock sprinted. But he sprinted too soon. 
He was a full one hundred and twenty yards from 
the tape. Joe sprinted, too, and the crowd saw that 
it was a case of who had the power to hold a hun- 
dred-yard clip for one-hundred-and-twenty yards at 
the end of a mile run. Inch by inch Joe gained. 
At seventy-five yards he had caught his man, and 
they came on abreast. At fifty yards they were still 
abreast. The crowd was now yelling and almost 
dancing up and down with excitement. At twenty- 
five yards from the tape Joe, his head thrown back, 
his jaw set, his eyes fixed on the goal, drew ahead, 
seeming suddenly to find a new spurt of strength. 
Wheelock tried to meet it, but he had shot his bolt. 
They came on with a rush, and Joe’s chest broke the 
red string a full two feet ahead, while such a shout 
went up from the Southmead scouts as they had 
never given before. 


THE GREAT TRACK MEET 


177 


They picked Joe up in their arms, and carried him 
back toward the dressing-room. But he, panting, 
demanded to be set down. “ Get — c-close, — b-boys,” 
he said. “ Now, nine long rahs and a ‘ Brookville ’ 
on the end.” 

He led the cheer, “ Rah-rah-rah, rah-rah-rah, rah- 
rah-rah, Brookville / ” 

The Brookville scouts then gathered across the 
track and answered with a “ Southmead.” 

The announcer shouted through his megaphone, 
“Final score, Brookville, 60; Southmead, 58. Relay 
cup won by Southmead,” and the crowd voted the 
meet as close and exciting as any they had ever 
seen. 

When the teams were rubbed down and dressed, 
they all gathered about the judges, and each boy # 
got a blue ribbon badge for every first he had won, 
a yellow for every second, and a white for every 
third. In addition, the runners on the winning relay 
team got special ribbons, and the donor of the cup 
presented that trophy to Joe, as captain of the South- 
mead team, to be kept in the Scout House. 

“ That was a fine race, boys,” he said, “ as good 
as I ever saw, and a fine meet, too. You couldn’t 
have a much closer score than 60 to 58. And South- 
mead takes home the cup. Both sides ought to be 
satisfied ! Here’s hoping we may have another 
meet ! I’ll promise a cup for it, right now.” 


1 7 8 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Then both teams gave a cheer for that sentiment, 
and the Southmead scouts and their friends went to 
the trolley. 

All the way home, there was excited discussion. 
Joe Donovan was the hero, with Joe Rathbun, win- 
ner of three firsts and a third, or sixteen points, as a 
close second. That night all the ribbons and the 
cup were displayed in the drug store window, and 
every small boy in town stood on the sidewalk out- 
side and looked enviously in. 

But the scouts themselves were not wholly satis- 
fied. 

“We made a good showing,” said Joe, “better 
than I thought we could. But we dichi! t win . We’ve 
got to win, and we’ve got to have a track of our own 
to train on, and to invite them to for the next meet. 
Besides, it was the field events that licked us. 
We’ve got to practice up on them.” 

“How are we going to get a track?” asked 
Dutch. 

“ Build it,” said Joe. 

“ Where?” 

“ Down on the village play field. We can get the 
cinders from the paper mill.” 

“ Who’ll build it?” asked somebody else. 

“ We will ! ” cried Joe. “ Our motto is ‘ Be Pre- 
pared,’ isn’t it? I guess we can build a running 
track ! ” 


THE GREAT TRACK MEET 


179 


So the great track meet found the scouts only 
barely defeated by a team of twice their numbers, by 
the slight margin of two points, but still not satis- 
fied. Instead of resting on their laurels, here they 
were, the same evening, planning something more 
and bigger. 

“ That’s the spirit,” said Mr. Rogers. 

“ Well, this meet has got us tog ether , anyhow,” 
said Joe, gritting his teeth. 

“That’s what organized athletics are for,” the 
scout-master replied. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Taking in the New Patrols 
HE next Saturday afternoon the tests for first- 



JL class scouts began. Not only Mr. Rogers but 
two men on the local scout council were present, as 
examiners. The tests were held in the woods on 
the shore of a pond in the northern part of the town. 
All of the Chipmunks had already, in camp the pre- 
vious summer, passed their test of traveling seven 
miles and return, making a map and writing a de- 
scription of the trip. The Crows and Woodchucks 
had been busy, also, using their Sundays for long 
walks in couples, and they, too, brought their maps. 
All the boys, too, certified that they had earned and 
deposited two dollars in the savings bank. Every- 
body, with much splashing and shouting, swam his 
fifty yards, and then the semaphore test was held, 
sixteen words a minute being the required rate. All 
the Chipmunks passed this test, but two or three of the 
Crows and as many Woodchucks were not able to. 

“ You let the little chaps beat you, eh?” said Mr. 
Rogers. “ Well, those of you who have failed will 
have to practice up, and we’ll give you another 
chance later.” 


180 


TAKING IN THE NEW PATROLS 181 


The advanced first aid tests had been given already 
by Dr. Henderson. Most of the boys had passed, 
though not all. Willie Walker was deficient, and 
some of the Crows. The cooking tests were held 
over fires built along the shore, and the proper use 
of an axe was demonstrated at the same time, in cut- 
ting the wood. All the scouts passed these tests, as 
well as the judgment of distance, height and weight 
within twenty-five per cent, of error. They all found 
that their track work helped them greatly here — the 
runs in judging distance, the jumps in height, and 
the twelve-pound shot in weight. For the reading 
of maps, each scout received another boy’s map of 
his seven-mile trip, and his ability to read, as well as 
the other’s to draw, was thus tested. Every boy, it 
was found, knew how to locate south by his watch, 
by pointing the hour hand directly at the sun. The 
point midway between the hour hand and the figure 
twelve on the dial would then be south. At the last 
evening meeting all the boys had proved their ability 
to find the North Star, and all of them knew three 
constellations, some more than three. 

“ And how about evidence that the boys have put 
into practice the scout law ? ” asked one of the coun- 
cil. “ Most of them seem to have passed the other 
tests, all but bringing in a tenderfoot, and you’ll have 
to attend to that, Mr. Rogers.” 

“ They’re a pretty good lot of boys, Mr. Kemble,” 


182 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


said the scout-master. “ One of them wasn’t quite 
obedient a year ago, and we couldn’t always trust his 
word. But he’s forgotten all that now. They’ve all 
kept themselves strong and clean. You saw them 
run at Brookville. I guess you know they’ve got 
sand. And they played fair. I think most of them 
try to be helpful to other people, and most of them 
are cheerful. If you know, or have heard of any of 
them who have done anything scouts shouldn’t, tell 
us all now.” 

“ No,” said Mr. Kemble, “ I don’t. I’ve heard 
good words for all of them. Wait a minute — I did 
hear the other day that one of them swore. I’m 
afraid I heard him myself. Shall I say who it was ? ” 

“ Certainly,” replied the scout-master. 

“ It was Joe Rathbun,” the other man said. “ You 
were swearing, Joe, and in front of some smaller 
boys, too. I don’t like that.” 

Joe turned red. The other scouts looked at him. 

“ Gee,” whispered Peanut, “ and he’s passed all 
the other tests ! ” 

“ Sorry, Joe,” said Mr. Rogers, “ but I’m afraid we 
can’t pass you. And you could easily have got a 
merit badge for athletics, too ! Come, will you prom- 
ise to cut out the swearing ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” said Joe, hanging his head a little. 

“Well, if you can come to me in two weeks and 
give me your word as a scout that you’ve not sworn 


TAKING IN THE NEW PATROLS 183 

since to-day, we’ll reconsider your case. Now, boys, 
the eighteen of you who’ve passed, if you bring in 
tenderfeet to the next meeting, will get your first- 
class badges from New York, and then you can begin 
to work for the merit badges. We'll appoint some 
new assistant scout-masters later. What do you say 
to a cross country run for home? First man in 
counts one point, second, two points, and so on, each 
man scoring the same number of points as his posi- 
tion. The patrol with the lowest number of points 
wins.” 

“ We won’t have any show at all ! ” cried the Chip- 
munks. 

“ Well, try to score as low as you can,” laughed 
Mr. Rogers. “ One, two, three — go ! ” 

Of course Joe Donovan was first at the club house, 
and the Woodchucks won easily, but Willie Walker 
surprised everybody by coming home in sixth place. 

“ Willie’s our new candidate for the distance runs ! ” 
cried Joe. “ We’ll make a runner of him in another 
two years ! ” 

The next night the eighteen recruits, tenderfeet 
ranging in age from twelve to fourteen years, were 
brought to the Scout House, lined up, and inspected 
by the scouts, who stood in front of them and made 
remarks. That was the first part of the initiation, 
and the tenderfeet didn’t quite know what to make 
of it. 


184 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ Look at Sam Henry ! He’s smiling ! He thinks 
it’s a joke/' called somebody. “ Get down and wipe 
it off 1 ” 

“ Wipe off the smile ! ” 

“ Wipe it off 1 ” 

“ Wipe it off 1 ” 

Poor Sam, a big, good-natured boy of thirteen, 
didn’t know what was meant, so Joe Donovan showed 
him. Taking him by the collar, he shoved him to 
his knees, and made him rub his face on the floor. 
Whereat the other seventeen tenderfeet set up a 
shout of mirth. 

“ Make ’em all wipe it off ! ” howled the scouts. 

In a moment all eighteen boys were down on their 
hands and knees rubbing their faces on the floor ! 
Some of them didn’t actually touch their faces, and 
those boys found a hand thrust down on their necks 
till their noses pressed the boards. The eighteen 
arose, very much soberer and very much dirtier of 
countenance. 

“Well, they are a pretty sad looking lot,” said 
Joe, pretending to be very much disappointed. “ But 
I suppose we’ve got to take ’em in. How shall we 
divide ’em, Mr. Rogers?” 

“ We’ll make three new patrols of six each,” re- 
plied the scout-master. “ That will leave room for 
six new boys when the rest of you qualify as first- 
class scouts. I'll appoint you, Joe, as temporary 


TAKING IN THE NEW PATROLS 185 

leader of one, Milt Noble of the second, and Peanut 
as leader of the third. Each of you leaders get an- 
other scout to help you, and teach these tenderfeet 
to drill and give them setting up exercises, and see 
that they know their knots. I’ll hold you boys re- 
sponsible for making scouts of ’em.” 

“ It’ll be a job to make scouts of this bunch,” re- 
plied Joe, glaring fiercely at the eighteen scared boys 
in front of him, “ but we’ll try. Come on now, you 
tenderfeet, for setting up drill ! ” 

The tenderfeet were divided into sixes, and Joe, 
Milt and Peanut each took a group, Peanut’s six 
being the smallest, and put them through setting up 
exercises. When they came to the exercise where 
you put your hands on your hips and squat on your 
heels, coming back again to a standing position, and 
then repeating, Bill Flynn cried out, “ Ho, that’s 
easy ! ” 

“ Silence ! ” shouted Joe. He put the tenderfeet 
through the drill for a moment, till they were all 
tired in the legs, and then he went over and stood 
directly in front of Bill. 

“ Now, you do it with me alone ! ” he commanded. 
“ It’s easy, is it ? ” 

Joe began to squat and rise, squat and rise, rap- 
idly, once, twice, three times, four times, five times. 
Bill tried to keep the pace. At about the tenth 
time the boy, already tired by the drill with the 


1 86 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

others, couldn’t get up. He tried, and toppled 
over. 

“Easy, is it?” repeated Joe, glowering. The 
scouts all grinned, Joe appeared so fierce. But the 
poor tenderfeet were impressed. They drilled as if 
their lives depended on it. 

After some elementary practice in marching, the 
tenderfeet were put through a knot-tying test. Then 
Mr. Rogers questioned them on the history and com- 
position of the American flag. After they had an- 
swered his questions, he stood up, and the scouts 
stood behind him, all facing the tenderfeet. He 
raised his hand for silence. The scouts were 
hushed. The tenderfeet, not knowing what was 
coming next, were hushed, too. 

“ Tenderfeet,” he said impressively, “ I’m now go- 
ing to show you the scout sign. It is this, three 
fingers raised, the thumb on the nail of the little 
finger. The three fingers stand for the three points 
of the scout oath. To make the scout salute, you 
fix your hand for the scout sign, and raise it to your 
forehead, so. A scout always salutes an officer. 
Now try it.” 

The tenderfeet, watching him, saluted. 

“ Now, I will read you the scout laws,” he contin- 
ued. “ When you take the scout oath, you promise 
to obey these laws.” And he read, in a solemn, 
serious voice, the twelve points of the scout law. 


TAKING IN THE NEW PATROLS 187 

When he had finished, Mr. Rogers called out Joe 
Donovan. “Joe,” he said, “ give them the oath.” 

Joe stepped to the front. “ Tenderfeet, raise your 
right hands with the scout sign. Now, on your 
honor, do you swear that you will do your best : 

“1. To do your duty to God and your country, 
and to obey the scout laws ; 

“ 2. To help other people at all times ; 

“ 3. To keep yourselves physically strong, men- 
tally awake, and morally straight ? ” 

“ I swear,” said the eighteen tenderfeet, together. 

“ Then,” said Joe, “ I pronounce you scouts of the 
tenderfoot class in the Southmead Patrol, and I give 
you welcome.” 

With a sudden dropping of his pretended stern- 
ness, Joe began to shake the newcomers by the hand. 
The other scouts rushed over, too, and the eighteen 
tenderfeet suddenly found themselves among friends. 
The new patrols were named the Muskrats, Minks 
and Owls, and before the evening was over they 
were already planning for hikes and each new boy 
was telling how far he could jump, or how fast he 
could run. 

Before he left, Mr. Rogers talked to Peanut, Joe 
and Milt. “ You’ve got a chance now to do a lot of 
good,” he told them, “ by helping these new boys. 
Pm putting you in charge as if you were their older 
brothers. I want you to keep an eye on them, teach 


1 88 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


’em all you can, and get the other scouts to teach 
’em, too. Can I rely on you to help me ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” said Joe and Milt, simply. 

“You bet your bottom dollar ! ” said Peanut. 
“Well, I’ll risk that dollar on you, I guess,” 
laughed Mr. Rogers, catching Peanut by the seat of 
the trousers and walking him Spanish as far as the 
door. 


CHAPTER XIX 


The Long Hike 

S CHOOL was over now, and Reggie Van Ant- 
werp was back from his winter in New York, 
and had once more joined with the Chipmunks. 
He had organized a boy scout troop in the private 
school he went to in the city, and had brought one 
of the patrol, a boy named Maurice Schuyler, up to 
Southmead with him. Maurice was a large, strong, 
manly lad of fifteen, who was evidently accustomed 
to be a leader among boys, but not by bullying. 
His power lay rather in the fertility of his ideas, and 
the skill with which he could carry them out. He 
taught the scouts field hockey, and showed them 
how, on rainy days, they could mark off the wall 
and floor of the club house with chalk, and play 
handball, either with a tennis ball or a small, hard 
rubber ball, which was faster but much more severe 
on the palms of the hands. 

And it was Maurice who suggested the long hike. 
“ I’ve always wanted to take a really long tramp,” 
he said, “ over mountains and everything. But all 
my folks go ’round in motor cars. That’s no fun. 
You fellows here don’t know what it is to live 
in a city, and not have a chance to do things 
189 


190 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

outdoors. I’ve never had scouts for friends before, 
with some get up and get in ’em ! What do you 
say, if Mr. Rogers will take us, that we go on a 
hundred-mile hike ? ” 

“ A hundred miles 1 ” cried Willie. “ That’ll take 
us ’most two days 1 ” 

“ You might do it in one, if you ran, Willie,” said 
Peanut. “ Be good training for you.” 

Mr. Rogers was approached on the subject, and 
consented. “ I’m only sorry that we didn’t think of 
it ourselves,” he said. “ How many patrols are 
going ? ” 

“Just the Chipmunks.! ” cried the boys. 

“ Oh, now don’t be mean ! The big patrols can’t 
go, of course, because their pace would be too fast, 
but let some of the new scouts go.” 

“Sure,” said Rob; “but have they had enough 
training in tramping ? ” 

It was finally decided that to take all four small 
patrols would be impossible, as so many boys would 
be unwieldy, and so, to show no favoritism, only the 
Chipmunks were admitted. Joe Donovan and his 
older brother promised to take the Owls, Muskrats 
and Minks camping at Loon Lake, to recompense 
them. So the Chipmunks foregathered, with a pile 
of United States survey maps of western Massachu- 
setts, and under Mr. Rogers’ advice laid out a route. 

They would take the trolley to Cheshire, because 


THE LONG HIKE 


191 

the road lay through settled country with which they 
were already familiar, and to walk it would only be 
to waste a whole day. From Cheshire they planned 
to walk up the carriage road to the top of Greylock, 
descend into North Adams by the Ravine trail, go 
over Hoosac Mountain, beneath which the famous 
tunnel is bored, tramp up the hills north of the 
Deerfield River through the little town of Rowe, 
cross over Adams Mountain into Heath, then tramp 
down the Deerfield valley to the old village of Deer- 
field, the scene of the famous Indian massacre in 
1704. Returning, they would tramp in as nearly a 
direct line for home as they could, through the tiny 
hill villages of the northern Berkshires, the wildest 
part of Massachusetts. The whole trip, as near as 
they could figure it on the map, allowing for the 
crooked roads, would be close on one hundred and 
fifty miles, and they planned to take the better part 
of fourteen days for the trip. 

Now came the question of equipment. At the 
very start, it was decided that each boy must have 
a poncho, which is a small rubber blanket with ring 
holes on the sides and a slit in the centre. You can 
put it under your regular blanket on the ground at 
night, to keep away the cold and damp ; you can, 
by using the ring holes on the sides, rig it up with 
strings as a tent, over the limb of a tree ; you can 
put your head through the hole in the middle, and 


192 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

wear it in the rain like a rubber coat, keeping your 
clothes, blanket and pack dry. In fact, it is almost 
indispensable. The boys each invested two dollars 
of their savings in one of these rubber ponchos. 
Each boy, in addition, was to carry a blanket roll, 
an extra pair of heavy socks, an extra shirt, a tooth- 
brush, small piece of soap, small comb and small 
towel, provisions for three meals, and four dollars 
carefully stowed where it could not be lost, for the 
purchase of provisions along the way. 

“ Four dollars isn’t much to spend for a two 
weeks’ vacation,” said Mr. Rogers, “and maybe we 
won’t need all of that. But we’d better take enough. 
Reggie and Maurice won’t take any more than the 
rest of us.” 

(But Mr. Rogers himself took more, secretly, in 
case of accidents.) 

In addition to this equipment, two of the ten boys 
carried hatchets, two carried first aid kits, two carried 
aluminum camp kettles for boiling water, several 
carried small frying-pans, and all carried matches, 
coffee, sugar, salt and pepper. Mr. Rogers also 
had an axe, his revolver, maps and a frying-pan. 
He wore a pedometer, and so did Arthur Bruce, 
who had got a new one on his birthday. Most of 
the boys carried fishing-tackle in their pockets, as 
well, and everybody brought the boots he intended 
to wear for inspection two days before the start to 


THE LONG HIKE 


193 


see if they were stout and comfortable enough to 
stand the long pounding, and not blister the feet. 
Rob and Mr. Rogers sent three pairs to the cobbler’s 
for extra soles. 

When the morning came for the start, the Chip- 
munks gathered at the Scout House, blankets tightly 
rolled inside the black ponchos, and marched in 
column of twos to the trolley, where a dozen, at 
least, of the other scouts were on hand to give them 
a send-off. By ten o’clock they were on the road at 
Cheshire. The long hike had begun. 

It was a beautiful morning in early July. The 
heat of the first week of the month, round the 4th, 
had passed. The land was green, the air clear. 
They swung gaily up the road, soon left houses be- 
hind them, and began to climb by a gradual ascent 
through wooded country. There was little sign of 
any mountain, however. 

“ Not much like the slide,” said Arthur. 

“ Should say not,” remarked Peanut. “ Say, can’t 
we come down the slide again ? ” 

“ Yes, give Dr. Everts another chance ! ” some- 
body laughed. 

“ No, sir,” said the scout-master, “ we stick to our 
schedule ! ” 

Presently they came out into more open country, 
and saw ahead a steep, sharp hill, which the map 
called “Jones’ Nose.” 


194 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“It would take a big handkerchief to blow it/* 
Willie shrilled. 

“ Hi, fellers, Willie’s made a real joke ! ” shouted 
Peanut. 

Round Jones’ Nose the road wound, and soon to 
the left they could see down into a green valley, 
and off to far hills beyond. They realized they were 
getting up in the world. Then the road entered 
woods again, but became ever more steep, and after 
a while, through an opening in the trees, they looked 
off and saw the horizon moved twenty miles away, 
blue and hazy. Here, by a spring, they halted for 
lunch. The road now grew still steeper and rockier, 
and began to wind around toward the east. Again 
the trees opened out. Finally Peanut, who was 
leading, gave a shout. 

“ The slide ! ” he called. 

The others ran up. Sure enough, there was the 
wall and to the right the path to the top of the slide. 
The boys, on familiar ground, left the road and cut 
up the path to the summit, dashing the final two 
hundred rods in a race for the observation tower. 

After they had taken in the view, they started for 
the hotel. The waitress met them at the door. 

“ My goodness, boys,” she cried, remembering 
them, “why didn’t you tell me you were coming, 
and I’d have had a hogshead of ginger ale sent up ! ” 

The scouts laughed. “ One bottle apiece to-day,” 


THE LONG HIKE 


195 

Mr. Rogers cautioned. “ Remember, we’ve got to 
make our four dollars last fourteen days ! ” 

So one bottle apiece was all they had, though 
Willie and Prattie looked sadly at their empty 
glasses. 

“Do we camp again on the summit?” asked 
Arthur. 

“ No, I think not,” Mr. Rogers answered. “ We’ve 
covered less than ten miles to-day so far. That’s 
hardly enough. We ought to go down — it’s easy 
going down-hill — and camp near the bottom, to be 
ready in the morning for the next stage over Hoosac 
Mountain. Are you game for five miles more down- 
hill, boys?” 

“ Sure ! ” went up the cry. 

So the packs were resumed again, and the troop 
started down the Notch trail toward North Adams, 
through a narrow, funnel-like gorge of rock called 
the Bellows Pipe, and along the Notch brook in the 
deep, steep valley between the spur of Greylock to 
the east called Ragged Mountain and the two spur 
summits to the west called Fitch and Williams. It 
was a wild spot. Williams and Fitch to the west 
shut out the sun long before it was sunset time on 
the plains. But the boys kept on until they were 
within sight of the outlet, and the towns below. 
Then, tired and a bit footsore from pounding down 
the rocky path, they camped fqr the night, and 


1 96 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

bathed their feet and whole bodies in the ice cold 
brook. The record for the day was almost fifteen 
miles. 

Bright and early the next morning they were astir, 
and after a breakfast of bacon, fried potatoes, coffee 
and griddle cakes cooked in the frying-pans, they 
set out. Approaching the city of North Adams, they 
fell into regular formation, and marched through 
the streets at the hour when men and women were 
going to their work and opening their shops. Every 
one turned to look at them, ten boys and a man, in 
khaki, with blanket rolls, knapsacks and staffs, 
marching through a city street where everybody 
else was dressed for business. Several asked them 
where they came from, and where they were going. 

“ Southmead ? ” said one man. “ Why, that’s 
thirty miles away or more, and Deerfield’s farther 
off still ! Going to walk all the way?” 

“ No,” said Peanut, “ our motor’s waiting at ” 

But “ Keep quiet 1 ” came from Rob. And Peanut, 
grinning, finished meekly, “ Yes, sir, we are taking 
a long hike.” 

“You’re all right, Peanut, only you’re too fresh,” 
said Rob, when the man had gone. “You’ve no 
manners.” 

“ I’ll buy you some candy,” Peanut replied. 

“ No, you won’t ; you’ll need your money for bacon 
and eggs. You come along ! ” 


THE LONG HIKE 


197 


So Peanut, with a hungry glance at the candy 
store, kept in the ranks till a provision store was 
reached, and the packs refilled. Then further temp- 
tation was soon put behind. They began to climb 
up as steep a carriage road as they had ever seen. 
It led up Hoosac Mountain, the great hill through 
which the famous Hoosac tunnel, four and one-half 
miles long, is bored. 

“ When the Fitchburg railroad was laid out from 
Boston to Troy, New York/’ Mr. Rogers explained, 
“ it came up the Deerfield River all right, as far as 
this mountain, as you’ll see when you get to the 
other side. But the only way to get past this hill 
was to bore right through it. There was no way 
around. For many years it was the longest tunnel 
in the world. The diggers began blasting into the 
rock from both sides at once, and so well was the line 
laid out for them that when the two bores met in the 
middle, almost a thousand feet below the summit, 
they were only a quarter of an inch off the straight 
line.” 

“ Did they go by compass ? ” somebody asked. 

Mr. Rogers smiled. “ No,” he said, “ they worked 
by mathematics. I’m afraid I couldn’t explain it to 
you. You’d have to study a longtime to understand 
it. But when we lay out our running track, you’ll 
begin to see a little bit how mathematics are used in 
engineering and surveying.” 


198 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

The scouts found the top of Hoosac Mountain a 
kind of plateau, two or three miles across. “ A mile 
south,” Mr. Rogers said, pointing down a road in 
the centre, “ is the top of the shaft which was sunk 
nine hundred feet to the tunnel. When the trains 
went through under steam, that shaft smoked all the 
time, like a volcano. But now they take the trains 
through by electric power, which is very much 
cleaner and pleasanter for the passengers. Many 
years ago, when I wasn’t much older than Rob, I 
walked through the tunnel one night, and I looked 
like a nigger when I came out, the place was so full 
of smoke and soot. It took me days to get clean. 
It was like going through a four-mile chimney.” 

The road now began perceptibly to descend east- 
ward. A few houses appeared, and the boys could 
see the white steeple of a little church up a cross- 
road. 

'‘This must be the town of Florida,” said Rob, 
consulting a map. 

“ It is,” Mr. Rogers answered. “ They tell a story 
about a motor party going through here once, over 
the mountain. The car stopped for repairs, and a 
small boy came out of one of these houses to 
watch. 

“ ‘ Where were you born, little boy ? ’ one of the 
women in the car asked. 

“ ‘ Florida,’ he said. 


THE LONG HIKE 


199 


“ ‘ My, what a long way from here ! ’ she replied. 
‘ Don’t you miss the warm winters?’ ” 

Everybody laughed but Prattie. He knit his 
brows. Presently, when the story was forgotten, he 
began to laugh. “What’s the matter, Prattie?” 
came the question. 

“ Ha, ha ! I see ! She thought he meant the state 
of Florida ! ” 

“ Gee,” said Peanut, rapping Prattie’s head with 
his knuckles, “ solid ivory ! ” 

“ Didn’t know you were English, Prattie,” laughed 
somebody else. 

Now they looked down into the valley of the Deer- 
field River to the east, and an exclamation went up. 
What a wild, steep-sided gorge it was! Just the 
thread of the river and, close beside it, the railroad 
track hung on the bank, and then the sharp, wooded 
hills going up a thousand feet on either side. 

“ But where does the river come from ? ” asked 
Arthur. “ Looks as if it came out of the tunnel.” 

A swing of the road brought them where they 
could look northward. They saw the river coming 
down through a similar gorge, from Vermont. It 
was as if it hit Hoosac Mountain and bounded off at 
sharper than a right angle. The road brought them 
out half a mile below the tunnel mouth, and they 
walked back to see the spot where the tracks went 
into a dark hole in the hill, close by the turn in the 


200 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


river. But the trains no longer go in with the belch 
of smoke and steam, the puffing of the locomotive 
becoming suddenly hushed and muffled as the train 
disappears, as if swallowed up by the mountain. In 
these days electric locomotives are put on. The tun- 
nel is free from smoke, and the boys peered into its 
endless length of twinkling signal lights, begging the 
section boss in vain to let them walk up it a way. 

They had been walking since seven that morning, 
and had covered a shade over twelve miles, and they 
were hot and dusty. And here was the Deerfield 
River, running over its shallow, rocky bed. They 
could have a swim, anyhow ! Crossing to the north 
bank of the river, they tramped eastward a mile or 
so, past the station where a little branch railroad de- 
parted on its way up the Deerfield into Vermont and 
the yard where the tunnel electric engines were kept, 
and were soon splashing in the swift waters of the 
river. Then came lunch. 

After lunch, everybody lay in the shade on the 
bank for an hour, resting. 

“ I feel as if I were in a different country, some- 
how,” said Rob. “ We’ve come over Hoosac Moun- 
tain and now all the rivers are flowing in another 
direction, and the landscape is wilder, and I feel as 
if the mountain were a big wall between us and home.” 

“ Me, too,” said Peanut. 

“ Well, it is a big wall between us and our valley,” 


THE LONG HIKE 


201 


laughed the scout-master. “ That's what the hike is 
for — to see new country, isn’t it, Maurice?” 

“ It's all new country to me, surely,” the boy an- 
swered. “ My, it’s great to get out and walk any- 
where you please, and not stop at hotels or get your 
lungs full of dust from motor cars ! ” 

The march wasn't resumed till three o’clock. 
“ We’ve got a hard six miles ahead of us, if we make 
it at all to-day,” said Mr. Rogers. “ I’d like to reach 
the most wonderful spot in the Berkshires to camp 
to-night, but I don’t want to overdo it. How are 
everybody’s feet ? ” 

All the feet were reported in good shape, and the 
march was recommenced. Almost immediately the 
road, which was barely more than a cart trail, began 
to leave the river and go up the wooded hill to the 
north. Up, up, it went, steeper than anything the 
boys had yet tackled except the slide on Greylock. 
They toiled, panting, under their packs and blankets. 
Fortunately, the way was shaded by great chestnuts 
and hemlocks. A mile of such work brought them 
to the top, to a clearing. In the centre of the clear- 
ing was an old cellar hole, now filled with weeds and 
wild roses. 

“ Somebody lived here once ! ” cried Rob. 

“ How’d you like to walk down that road to school 
every day, and back again at night?” asked Mr. 
Rogers. 


202 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ I’d want an elevator ! ” said Peanut. 

“ / wouldn’t go to school,” said Willie. 

They were now on a plateau, having come up 
eight hundred to one thousand feet from the river 
bottom. The road led northeast, past another aban- 
doned farm, and then into a farmyard not aban- 
doned. The road, with grass and weeds growing be- 
tween the wheel tracks, seemed to run up to the back 
door of the farmhouse, and stop. 

“ Guess it’s gone in to make a call,” said Peanut. 
“ Hi, there’s a pump ! ” 

The farmer came out of the barn at the sound of 
shouting, and talked with the boys. 

“ Come clear from Greylock to-day ? ” he said, in 
wonder. “Well, just turn around and see how far 
you’ve walked.” 

The boys turned. There to the west, sure enough, 
over the great, level, green rampart of Hoosac, rose 
Greylock, looking like a saddle back from this angle 
(it used, indeed, to be called Saddle Back Mountain) 
and blue with distance. It looked miles and miles 
away. 

“ Makes me feel tired ! ” said Peanut. 

The scouts now found the run-away road again, 
on the other side of the farmhouse, and plodded on. 
The view of Greylock was shut out as they dipped 
into a hollow. There was nothing to indicate that 
they were high in the world at all. They might 


THE LONG HIKE 


203 


have been down on the flats. They were getting 
very tired and footsore, and Peanut whistled a march 
to keep up their spirits. The road was better now, 
for two or three more farmhouses had been passed, 
and there was more traffic over it. One mile, two 
miles, were slowly reeled off on the pedometers. 
These last two miles took an hour and ten minutes 
— pretty slow walking. 

Finally, “ Column, left ! ” came the sharp com- 
mand from the scout-master. The troop turned up 
the drive to a little red farmhouse. Milk and eggs 
were purchased, then, “ Forward, march ! ” again. 
But not up the road. The column moved over a 
field back of the house, headed almost northwest, as 
if they were backing on their own tracks. 

“ What are we going this way for?” they asked. 

“ Say, I’m tired, and my foot hurts,” wailed Prat- 
tie. 

“ Play this is a forced march,” cried Mr. Rogers. 
“ We are Stonewall Jackson’s Army of the Valley, 
and we’ve got to get to Winchester to-night. For- 
ward, men ! ” 

They were on a wood road now. Rob, to keep 
them up, made them march in regular formation. 
“ Left — left,” he called, in time to the tread. Peanut 
whistled. They moved through the woods, on a 
level, soft trail. Presently the trail crossed a brook. 

" Halt ! ” 


204 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ Stack blankets and packs ! ” 

The packs and rolls came off tired shoulders, and 
dippers plunged into the brook. 

“ Forward, without packs, march ! ” 

Again the tired boys fell in, grumbling now. 

“ Only a few steps more,” cried the scout-master, 
“ and then back here for camp. Wait till you see 
why we keep on ! ” 

The trail was now only a foot-path. It went up a 
slight hill, through heavy timber, the boys in single 
file, Peanut leading. Mr. Rogers was in the rear. 
Suddenly Peanut, reaching the top, began to run. 
A moment more and the others heard him shouting. 
They ran, too. Mr. Rogers followed more slowly. 
He came up to them, gathered in an awed and ex- 
cited group on top of Pulpit Rock, the precipice 
falling away under their feet in almost a sheer drop 
of one thousand feet to the Deerfield River like a sil- 
ver thread far below ! 

And just as he came up there was a sudden great 
flap of wings some twenty feet under their feet on 
the cliff, and an eagle leaped out upon the air, made 
a few great fans, and then, with wings outspread at 
rest, sailed with beautiful, majestic ease clear across 
the gorge to the other side, a mile away. 

“ An eagle, an eagle ! ” cried the scouts. And 
then they held their breaths and watched him sail. 

The rock where they stood was only one of hun- 


THE LONG HIKE 


205 


dreds, just part of a great ledge which extended 
north and south along the top of the ridge for sev- 
eral miles, but below it the wall was most nearly 
perpendicular. The sun was low, now, and the dis- 
tances hazed with a rosy light. Up the gorge they 
could see the far blue mountains of Vermont. In 
the narrow valley at their feet they could see the 
river, the railroad, looking like a toy track, and two 
or three farmhouses amid green squares of corn, 
looking like toy houses. Southwest, toward Hoosac, 
the walls of the gorge jutted out into the rosy sunset 
haze like great headlands into the sea. 

“ And you’d never guess this was here at all ! ” 
said Rob. “ That’s the funny part of it. You walk 
along on the level for miles, and suddenly come out 
of the woods and almost fall down one thousand 
feet ! ” 

“You came up here way back at three o’clock,” 
laughed Mr. Rogers. “ Now for camp, and after 
dinner I’ll tell you the Indian legend of this rock.” 

The boys turned away from the precipice, and 
there, at their very faces, was the edge of the woods. 
A dozen steps in, and no cliff was visible. They 
were just on a little knoll in the forest. 


CHAPTER XX 


The Legend of Pulpit Rock 
HERE was still enough daylight left to cut 



1 hemlock branches for a bed, and Peanut, 
Arthur and Maurice, who were ever foremost to 
volunteer for extra labor, set out to make a bunk on 
a stretch of sheltered ground amid the evergreens. 
The fire was started, water put to boil, everybody 
changed his sweat-soaked shirt for a fresh, dry one, 
and before long the smell of coffee, of toasting bacon, 
of crisping potatoes, filled the air, the eggs sizzled 
in the pans, and ten tired and hungry boys and one 
hungry man felt better even before they began to 


eat. 


“Now, the story!” cried Peanut, as he stretched 
luxuriously out before the fire, in the gathering dark- 
ness. 

“ It’s not much of a story at that,” said Mr. Rogers, 
“ but it illustrates what Rob spoke of — the sense of 
surprise with which you come upon Pulpit Rock. 
I don’t even know if it’s true. It’s an ofd legend of 
these hills, though. Let’s hope it is true. It ought 
to be. 

“ Well, you know this country up here in the wilc| 


THE LEGEND OF PULPIT ROCK 207 

northern hills of Massachusetts wasn’t settled so 
soon as Southmead was. Southmead was settled 
when, Peanut ? ” 

“ 1734/’ Peanut promptly replied. 

“ Correct. Deerfield, where we are going, was 
settled even sooner, but nobody got up here into 
these hills to stay till many years after. But the 
settlers from Deerfield used to explore the country, 
and the legend is that once two or three of them 
were exploring up in this region with an Indian 
guide who was dumb. He had lost his power of 
speech when he was a boy, from some disease or 
other, and could only make little grunts like a pig. 
Well, the party got deeper and deeper into the 
woods — for then all this land, of course, was prime- 
val forest — and it began to grow dark, and even the 
Indian lost his bearings. I suppose it was cloudy, 
so there was no sun nor stars for guide. He was 
going on ahead. The white men were follow- 
ing, just as you were following Peanut. They 
hadn’t gone up any hill to speak of for sev- 
eral hours, and they supposed they had got 
down to level country, when suddenly, to their as- 
tonishment, they heard the Indian give a loud shout, 
and then cry, in Indian, ‘ Come here ! ’ Naturally, 
they didn’t know what to make of it. They rushed 
ahead, burst out of the woods, and there stood the 
Indian, on Pulpit Rock, his hands lifted, chanting a 


208 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


prayer of thanks to the Great Spirit for restoring his 
lost speech ! He had been so astonished by almost 
tumbling over that cliff which he never guessed was 
there at all, that the shock had restored his vocal 
powers.” 

“That's funny,” said Peanut ; “ it nearly took my 
voice away ! ” 

“ Do you suppose it really could have happened — 
could a man’s voice come back like that ? ” Lou in- 
quired. 

“ Ask Rob ; he’s the doctor,” Mr. Rogers laughed. 
“ I’m telling you the legend, just as I got it from an 
old man up here years ago, when I was a boy. He 
also said it was called Pulpit Rock because a preacher 
almost a hundred years ago used to bring people up 
here and preach to them from the rock, where the 
wonderful view could make them feel how small a 
thing is Man, and how great a thing is Nature, 
whose little Deerfield River could dig itself a chan- 
nel one thousand feet deep through the solid hills. 
Now, I guess we’d better go to bed. Those in favor 
say * Aye ! ’ ” 

“ Aye ! ” 

“The vote is unanimous,” laughed the scout- 
master. 

In five minutes there was not a sound in camp. 


CHAPTER XXI 


A Helping Hand 


HERE was no early start in the morning. The 



A eighteen miles of the day before had told on 
the boys — Mr. Rogers realized it was too much, and 
resolved to keep the next stage down to ten. After 
breakfast everybody wanted another view from 
Pulpit Rock, and a chance to roll stones off the 
brink, to hear them crash into the tree tops below, 
and finally to come to a stop far down, where the 
slope grew less precipitous. Then camp was struck, 
and the march resumed. Something less than three 
miles brought them into the little village of Rowe, a 
tiny upland hamlet consisting of a few houses, a 
small church, a “ general store ” and post-office 
combined, and a sawmill by a small pond on the 
brook right across the street from the store. The 
store was filled with groceries, straw hats, calico, 
tobacco, ploughs, axe handles, a big stove, barrels 
of crackers, and at one side was the stack of post- 
office boxes. It was the real, old-fashioned New 
England country store, with that funny smell of 
kerosene mixed with everything else, which nobody 


2io THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


can describe, but which everybody who has been in 
such a store will remember. 

On the veranda in front sat several men and boys, 
and stared with astonishment at the scouts, con- 
tinuing to stare at them and ask them questions 
while they renewed their supply of buckwheat flour 
and sugar. And here Peanut, to be restrained 
neither by threats nor jeers, bought himself a huge 
straw hat for fifteen cents, such as farmers wear while 
haying, and, tucking his scout hat in his belt, wore 
the new possession at the head of the line as the 
march was resumed. The rest of the scouts amused 
themselves by tossing pebbles at it. 

Across the mill-pond the pastures rose up the 
sides of a little mountain, called Mt. Adams, and 
through these pastures Mr. Rogers led the way. 
Once in the woods, they found themselves in what 
seemed like an old road, long since disused and 
gone back to grass and moss. 

“This was the old road from Rowe to Charle- 
mont,” he said. “In the old days folks took the 
straightest line, whether it led over hills or not. 
Now they go ’round the hills, and save in strength 
what they lose in distance.” 

At the top of the ridge, they halted for lunch, and 
made a side trip through a berry pasture to the 
summit of the mountain, half a mile to the north. 
But the summit was wooded, and there was no view, 


A HELPING HAND 


2 1 1 


except one vista to Greylock, now bluer than ever, 
far, far to the west. 

Now the old road wound down on the eastward 
side, into a beautiful country, and joined a traveled 
road which took them through woods and fields 
toward the village of Heath. The tramp had been 
short — less than ten miles. They were feeling fresh 
again, but gathering thunder-clouds warned them to 
look out for shelter. They quickened pace, hoping 
to come to a barn. Sure enough, there was a farm 
round the next bend of the road. The farmer was 
just driving hurriedly out of his yard with an empty 
hay-rick, evidently bound for a field near by, where 
there were great piles of new cut hay. 

“ Boys,” cried Rob, “here’s a chance to do a good 
turn ! Let’s help him load ! ” 

“ Hooray ! ” from the scouts. 

“Do I want help?” the farmer shouted, in reply 
to their questions. “ Wall, with every hand away, 
I should say I did ! You’ll find forks in the barn, 
boys.” 

The boys made for the barn, left their packs, 
grabbed forks and rakes, and dashed into the field. 

It takes a strong man to lift a fork full of hay and 
pitch it on to a load, but when you have six boys, 
each with half a fork full, you are still getting the 
work of three men. Two more scouts raked behind 
the wagon, and two helped tread down the hay on 


212 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


the load. One load was rushed to the barn and 
pitched into the loft, the boys working up in the hot 
hay under the rafters, fairly steaming with perspira- 
tion. Out went the wagon again. The thunder 
rumbled behind Mt. Adams. The clouds were now 
over the sun, over the whole sky. The land was 
getting dark. Against the gray-black sky, the white 
birches on the mountain stood out like ghosts. The 
boys and the farmer worked still faster. The last 
of the hay was tossed aboard. The horses started. 
There came a spit of rain. Shouting, the scouts 
ran ahead of the wagon, toward the barn. And just 
as the horses, with a strain and a run, hauled the 
heavy load up the incline and into the great door, 
down on the roof came the thunder of the shower. 

“ Well, by heck, you boys came by in the nick 
o’ time ! ” cried the farmer. “ I don’t know how I’d 
’a’ got thet hay in without yer. What be you, 
anyway ? Don’t come from hereabouts, do yer ? ” 

“ From Southmead,” answered Rob. “ We are 
boy scouts, off on a long hike.” 

“ Southmead, let’s see. Why, that’s way off west, 
near York State line, and considerable south, ain’t 
it?” 

“ Yes,” Rob replied. 

“ Mean to say you walked clear over here, jest fer 
fun ?” the farmer demanded. 

“ Guess that’s the size of it,” Rob laughed. 


A HELPING HAND 


213 


“ Wall,” he replied, “ boys hev a queer idea o’ 
what fun is! You ain’t much like the boys around 
here, neither. They wouldn’t walk two mile, 'cept 
to a circus or the Agricultural Fair.” 

“ They would,” said Rob, “ if they were boy 
scouts, and knew what fun it is.” 

“ Whar be ye goin’ to sleep to-night? ” the farmer 
asked. “ This shower’s made everything wet. 
Why don’t you bunk right here in the new hay ? 
I’d take yer all into the house, if there was room, 
but my wife’ll cook yer some supper, anyhow.” 

The boys looked out. The shower was still com- 
ing down in sheets. The roads were awash, and 
though Peanut, Willie and Art, to try their new 
ponchos, put them on and ran out into the down- 
pour (Peanut with the water streaming off his new 
straw till the brim sagged down on to his shoulders 
all the way around), the scouts thankfully voted to 
accept the farmer’s offer. 

“ But we wouldn’t dream of letting your wife cook 
for all of us,” said Mr. Rogers. “All we want is 
permission to build a camp-fire across the road 
there, under the trees, when the rain stops.” 

“ Build it anywhere, except in the barn ! ” cried 
the farmer. 

The rain, after half an hour, stopped almost as 
quickly as it had begun, the clouds sweeping off 
eastward and the sinking sun throwing a great 


214 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


rainbow upon them. The boys took off their shoes 
and stockings and went barefoot through the soaked 
grass to a brook across some fields, and had a swim 
— or rather a wash, for there wasn’t water enough to 
swim in. When they came back, they put on clean 
stockings, and washed the first pair at the pump. 
Alas ! there were several pairs with holes in toe or 
heel. 

“ Boys,” said Mr. Rogers, “I’ll bet none of you 
thought to bring a needle and darning cotton.” 

Nobody had. 

“ Did you ? ” said Peanut. 

“No,” said the scout-master, while the boys 
laughed. “ But I’ll bet we can borrow some in 
the house.” 

Peanut led the way to ask, but the farmer’s wife 
refused to lend any. “ Not a needle, not an inch of 
cotton,” she said. “ But you all bring your stock- 
ings in here and hang ’em by the stove, and to-night 
I'll darn ’em. As if boys knew how ! ” 

“ I think it would be good practice if they learned,” 
said Mr. Rogers. 

“ Well, they can’t larn with my cotton ! ” laughed 
the motherly soul. “ I'm goin’ to do this job ! ” 

While the scouts were cooking dinner, they heard 
from her again. Her son, who had returned from 
the village with another man, a farm-hand, after 
the shower was over, came out of the house with a 


A HELPING HAND 


215 

great dish heaped high with fresh doughnuts, and 
a big pitcher of milk. 

“ From mother ! ” he said. 11 Guess she thinks 
you don’t really know how to cook your own meal.” 

My ! those doughnuts were good, especially when 
washed down with the cool, sweet milk ! And they 
were a welcome change from the camp fare of the 
past two days. The dish was soon emptied, and 
sent back to the house with thanks, and after sup- 
per the farmer and his wife called all the boys up on 
the veranda, brought out a phonograph, and in the 
cool of the evening they had a merry party, with 
music and singing by the phonograph first, and 
then by the boys, who, led by Peanut, insisted on 
singing the forty-nine green bottles entirely off the 
wall. 

That night they slept in the new hay, shaken 
down on the barn floor, for it was too hot up in the 
lofts. It was a soft, fragrant bed, but even on the 
floor, with the air blowing through the barn, the 
boys found it full warm. You don’t have to sleep 
out on the bare ground many nights to make even 
a barn seem close and stuffy. 

In the morning, after another batch of doughnuts 
and fresh coffee sent out by the farmer’s wife, who 
also sent them back their stockings, nicely dried and 
mended, the boys set off again, with many “ good- 
byes ” and “ thank yous.” 


2 16 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ Well,” said Rob, as they swung down the road, 
hard and dustless after yesterday’s shower, “ you 
certainly get treated better by other people if you 
do them a good turn first.” 

“ M-m ! those doughnuts ! ” commented Peanut. 


CHAPTER XXII 
The Railroad Wreck 


HEIR way led them through a second little 



A village about the size of Rowe, called Heath ; 
one of those New England hill towns which still keep 
the primitive simplicity of fifty years ago, and where 
neither trolley cars nor railroads nor automobiles 
have come to alter things. Most of the boys had 
never seen such communities before, for in the region 
around Southmead the trolleys and motors and sum- 
mer estates have destroyed the old Yankee type 
of life. Leaving Heath behind, they turned south 
again, and went for five miles down-hill, beside a 
brook called Avery Brook on the map, realizing as 
they went how high up in the air Rowe and Heath 
must be, for the hills beside them rose ever higher 
as they dropped down into the gorge of the brook 
between. After nearly two hours they found them- 
selves down in the gorge of the Deerfield River, 
their road coming out on another which ran beside 
the northern bank. High hills, almost as high 
though not as steep as those back at Pulpit Rock, 
formed the walls of the gorge. Across the river, 


2 18 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


hanging on the other bank and winding with every 
turn of the stream, were the tracks of the railroad. 

They now started eastward, along the river turn- 
pike, planning to make another mile or two before 
lunch. A few moments later they heard a train 
coming. Almost opposite to them was a siding, 
with a few flat cars standing on it, evidently waiting 
to be loaded with lumber from a chute down the 
steep mountain. Th®> boys stopped to watch the 
train go by. It was a long passenger train, with 
Pullmans in front and three day coaches behind. 
It was coming rather slowly, for the road here 
curved badly around bends in the river, and the 
grade was steep. The Pullmans went over the 
switch all right, but suddenly the boys saw some- 
thing happen. The last two cars seemed to have 
crossed over to the other track, and the car between 
them and the Pullmans was overturned with a grind- 
ing, crashing noise, and dragged along till (it seemed 
hours, but in reality was but seconds later) the coup- 
ling on the end connected with the Pullmans broke. 
There was a sound of air brakes like a scream, and 
the train stopped two hundred yards beyond. Men 
and women began to pour out of it, and out of the 
two rear cars left standing on the down track, and 
rushed toward the overturned car. 

“ First aid ! Here’s our chance ! ” cried Rob. 
“Oh, how can we get across the river?” 


THE RAILROAD WRECK 


219 


Throwing down their packs in a pile, and their 
coats and watches, and keeping only staffs, hatchets 
and first aid kits, the boys sprang down the bank to 
the river. Fortunately, it was low, in spite of yes- 
terday’s shower, for the summer had been a dry one. 

“ Form a chain,” cried Mr. Rogers ; “ each boy 
stretch back his staff to the one behind, and hang on 
hard .” 

The scout-master at the hgad, they entered the 
swift current, picking their way from rock to rock. 
Sometimes the water was only up to their knees, 
sometimes it was up to their chins, and more than 
once it swept a boy off his feet, but the human chain 
pulled him back. Meanwhile, they could hear the 
shouts and groans from the wrecked car, and some 
of the boys turned pale. 

“ This is going to be the real thing, boys,” cried 
Mr. Rogers. “ Keep your heads ; keep cool. We 
must help all we can.” 

Dripping wet, they dashed up the bank. On an- 
other occasion, the crowd would have been surprised 
to see them come, out of the river, as it were. But 
now everybody was too excited to pay much atten- 
tion. The wrecked car lay on its side between the 
tracks, which it had torn up for two hundred feet as 
it was dragged along. Trainmen were on the up- 
turned side, chopping madly at window casements. 
Rob, Art and Mr. Rogers leaped up, too, with their 


220 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


hatchets, and began to chop. The other scouts 
rushed to the ends, and began to pull at splintered 
boards to make an entrance into the car. 

Rob and Arthur were among the first to get an 
opening large enough to work in. They dropped 
down into the tangle of splintered boards, twisted 
seats and human bodies, followed by a dozen men 
from the train, and began to lift the injured out, and 
to tear and chop away the obstructions which held 
others down. Some were crying and groaning with 
broken limbs, nearly all were cut and bleeding from 
broken glass, and some lay quite still, horribly still ! 
Even Rob grew faint at the sight. But they worked 
on with frantic haste. 

The wrecked car was a smoker, fortunately, so 
that there were no women nor children in it, and it 
was not crowded. The conductor estimated that 
there were not more than twenty men in it. It was 
not long before they were all out, those who could 
walk having their cuts attended to by women on the 
train, or by Arthur with a first aid kit, the others 
being laid on the grass, while Rob, Mr. Rogers, a 
doctor who was aboard, and others under their direc- 
tion worked over them. 

Meanwhile the engine, cut out from the train with 
a baggage car, had rushed on to the next town for aid. 

Rob was busy over a man, the last taken out, 
whose wrist had been cut by glass. The blood was 


THE RAILROAD WRECK 


221 


spurting out in jumps, like water from a pump. He 
had already fainted from loss of blood, and was 
growing white. 

“ Quick, a tourniquet ! ” Rob cried, binding a 
dressing over the cut while Mr. Rogers and Dennie 
made the tourniquet ready. Rob adjusted it, using 
his own handkerchief for a pad, and turned the stick 
tighter and tighter till the bleeding stopped. Then 
he pulled the man’s sleeve down till it covered the 
top of the stick and held it firmly in place. Next he 
took up the aromatic ammonia, cried to the other 
scouts to keep the crowd back from the injured 
people, and forced a few drops through the man’s 
lips. The man opened his eyes and regained con- 
sciousness enough to shake his head when asked if 
he felt as if he were injured anywhere else. Then 
Rob turned to the next man. 

This man had, curiously enough, exactly the same 
injury as the girl on Greylock, a Potts’ fracture, only 
it had been caused by a beam of wood striking the 
ankle, and the skin was badly lacerated. Rob and 
Mr. Rogers put the bone back in place, two of the 
scouts rushed to the wreck and chopped off splints, 
women gladly tore their petticoats for bandages, and 
first dressing the lacerated flesh as well as he could, 
Rob temporarily set the bone. 

Meanwhile, two of the scouts, pale with the excite- 
ment and the sight of so much blood and suffering, 


222 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


had been helping the doctor. The doctor had now 
gone up the line, while Rob was moving down. 
Only two men separated them. But these two lay 
very still. They did not even groan. The doctor 
had examined them first of all when they were 
brought from the car. Now, as Rob bent over one, 
he touched the boy on the shoulder. “Too late, my 
lad,” he said. 

Rob grew pale, too. “ Dead?” he whispered. 

The doctor nodded. 

Rob and the scouts looked at the two poor, 
huddled bodies. 

“ And all because somebody didn’t close the switch 
tight, and the forward cars jolted it open and sent 
the rear cars on to the other track ! ” the doctor con- 
tinued. “ Poor fellows !.” 

Peanut turned away, and wiped his grimed and 
blood-stained hand across his eyes. 

But Rob turned back to his patients. “ I’ve got 
a tourniquet on a man’s wrist up here,” he said. “ I 
must ease it.” 

The doctor came with him, and examined the job. 
“You know your first aid business,” he said. 
“ That’s first rate. I’ll attend to it again when we 
get him on the train. And a splint on this one ! 
Say, where did you scouts drop from, anyway?” 

“We were across the river when the wreck hap- 
pened.” 


THE RAILROAD WRECK 


223 


“ And you swam over ? ” 

“We didn’t have to swim,” Peanut corrected. 

The doctor rose and looked at their wet clothes. 
Then he turned to the crowd of men and women 
from the train. “ These boys have saved one man’s 
life, by putting a tourniquet on a severed artery,” he 
said, “and set another man’s broken leg, and 
patched up half a dozen bad cuts, and helped get 
the injured out of the wreck. And there isn’t one 
of ’em old enough to be out of school yet. Don’t 
we do something for them ? ” 

The crowd cheered, while the boys looked rather 
sheepish. A man suddenly began to pass round 
his hat, and the boys, hearing the money drop into 
it, realized what it meant. 

“Oh, no!” cried Rob, “we couldn’t take any- 
thing. Only — only we’ve used up all our first aid 
kits. If anybody had them ” 

Then he broke off, realizing that only scouts and 
doctors carry such things about. 

“ Well, take enough to buy new first aid kits, any- 
how ! ” said the man. 

“ I guess you may do that, boys,” said Mr. Rogers, 
“since we are so far from home, and really need the 
kits.” 

“ Here’s thirty dollars already. Is that enough?” 
the man asked, counting the money in his hat. 

“ We used up two kits, that cost three dollars 


224 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

apiece,” said Rob. “ That’s all we can take, thank 
you. We — we wouldn’t take that, only we are on 
a long hike, and we may need them again. Thank 
you very much, sir.” 

As Rob took the money, the passengers sent up a 
rousing cheer, and at the same moment they heard 
the whistle of the returning locomotive. It came 
bringing doctors and mattresses from Charlemont. 
The injured were put on the mattresses in the bag- 
gage car. The passengers from the two standing 
day coaches were taken into the Pullmans, for the 
wrecked car had so torn the track ahead that these 
cars could not be connected again, and the train 
went on its way, leaving behind only a train-hand 
with red flags to await the wrecking crew, and the 
little band of dirty, wet, blood-stained scouts, most 
of whom now realized that they themselves were 
more or less cut by broken glass in their efforts to 
get into the car, and all of whom now realized that 
they were faint and tired. 

“ What time is it ?” asked Rob of the train-hand. 

He pulled out his watch. “Three o’clock,” he 
said. 

Three o’clock ! and they had forgotten all about 
lunch. With a final look at the smashed car the 
boys descended to the river, took off their clothes, 
which were now partly dry again, made them into 
bundles, fastened them by their belts around their 


THE RAILROAD WRECK 


225 


necks, to keep them as dry as possible, and once 
more entered the river. On the other bank they 
picked up their packs, and, still undressed, scrambled 
into the bushes out of sight of the road, where they 
made a fire, spread their clothes to dry, and, talking 
in low, awed voices of the wreck, ate a hasty lunch. 
Nobody knew quite what he ate, though. The ex- 
citement was still over them. 

When their clothes were dry, they resumed the 
march eastward down the river road, and made a 
weary three miles before turning in by a spring for 
the night. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


In Ancient Deerfield 
HE next day was one of uneventful tramping, 



JL first round a great loop of the river, then under 
a beetling hill into Shelburne Falls, a town where 
more provisions were purchased and Peanut was 
dragged protesting from the candy counter, but not 
before he had bought a pound of caramels. Then 
there were ten miles more of hilly country road, back 
from the river now amid pretty upland farms, until 
in the late afternoon the tired procession came into 
sight of the river again, flowing through great, wide 
green meadows, and on the farther side was a little 
town, nearly hidden under its elms. 

“ Deerfield ! ” said Mr. Rogers. 

The scouts gave a cheer. It was the end of their 
eastward journey. 

The troop crossed the river and, forming in col- 
umn of twos, marched up the single street of Deer- 
field, looking to right and left in wonder. Never 
had they seen such a town before, which is not very 
strange, because there is no other town like it in 
America ! 


226 


IN ANCIENT DEERFIELD 


227 

“ It looks as if it had been here forever ! ” said 
Lou. 

Almost everybody has seen, perhaps, in his own 
town, an old, old house, the unpainted shingles turned 
gray and mossy with age like a boulder in the pas- 
ture, the long roof sloping down behind, the single 
huge chimney in the middle, and over the house a 
great, protecting elm. This house was built, per- 
haps, before the Revolutionary War, almost a cen- 
tury and a half ago, and is called a “ landmark.” 
You are very proud of it in your town. Well, now 
imagine a village street almost a mile long entirely 
lined on both sides with just such houses as this, and 
with the great elms meeting over the road to form 
almost a roof, so that the sun scarce gets in enough 
to dry out the mud of the last rain before the next 
rain comes. . Imagine an old cemetery at one spot 
along the street, an old store, an old white meeting- 
house, and all the way along it to the west, seen be- 
tween the houses, coming almost up to their back 
yards, the green expanse of the river meadows. 
There you have Deerfield, a town which exists to-day 
almost as it existed one hundred or one hundred and 
fifty years ago, save that the trees are larger now, 
and the houses deeper stained with moss and weather. 
Even though a trolley track goes through the street, 
the cars come but once an hour, and between times 
all is still. Few people are seen. It is cool under 


228 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


the shade of the great trees. All the houses look so 
very old, so exactly like the pictures of colonial days 
in America that it seems as if you had suddenly 
stepped back into the century before last. 

“ If I should meet my great-great-grandfather now, 
I shouldn’t be a bit surprised,” said Rob. 

Maurice, who lived in New York where everything 
is changing all the time and few buildings are more 
than a dozen years old, couldn’t find a word to say. 
He just stared at the old, old houses, so quiet and 
lovely and peaceful. Finally he said, “ Why, I know 
what it’s like. It’s like Europe — I mean it looks old , 
like little towns in Europe. Of course, the houses 
aren’t shaped the same. I didn’t know there was 
anything so old in America.” 

“ There isn’t much,” said Mr. Rogers. “ The peo- 
ple of Deerfield are very proud of their town, and try 
to keep it just this way, I’m glad to say. Take a 
good look. You’ll get a better idea of what New 
England villages looked like one hundred years ago 
from Deerfield than from all the books in the library.” 

After they had wandered the length of the street, 
the boys went down through the great meadows to 
the river, had a swim as the sun was setting behind 
the western hills, and camped by the shore of the 
stream. 

“ It was across these very meadows, one winter night 
in 1704,” said Mr. Rogers, “that the French and 


IN ANCIENT DEERFIELD 


229 


Indians came on snow-shoes, and attacked the town. 
Deerfield was then hardly more than a collection 
of log houses, some of them surrounded by a stock- 
ade, or fence made of logs stuck upright, side by side. 
Perhaps they crossed the very spot where we are 
camping, sneaking silently over the snow, bent on 
their bloody work.” 

“Tell us about it!” cried Peanut, as he threw an- 
other stick on the fire, and settled down comfortably 
on the grass. 

“ You ought to know more about it than I do,” 
Mr. Rogers laughed. “You’re studying American 
history in school now, and I haven’t studied it for 
many years.” 

“ It seems more real when you hear about it right 
on the spot,” Peanut replied. 

“ Well, Deerfield, like most New England frontier 
towns, had a hard time of it from the start,” Mr. 
Rogers began. “ Back in King Philip’s War — 
when was King Philip’s War, Peanut?” 

Peanut shook his head. It was Reggie who re- 
membered. “ 1675-76,” he replied. 

“ Good,” said the scout-master. “ That was only 
a little more than fifty years after the landing of the 
Pilgrims at Plymouth, you see, but Deerfield was al- 
ready settled. The English had got out as far as 
the fertile Connecticut valley, and settled at Deer- 
field, Hadley, Springfield and other points. But if the 


230 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

Indians were able to make trouble way to the east, 
where the settlements were thicker, you can see how 
easy it was for them here to come down on Deer- 
field, for instance, from the wild hills, and flee back 
again. In King Philip’s War they attacked a few 
miles south of here ninety men who were carrying 
the Deerfield harvest to the towns to the south, and 
killed nearly all of them. The little stream where 
the massacre took place is still known as Bloody 
Brook. The same year, 1675, the Indians also burned 
the town. 

“ But King Philip was captured, the war ended, 
and Deerfield was rebuilt. The settlers got along 
pretty well till 1704. At that time the English col- 
onies were fighting the French from Canada, for 
Canada then belonged to France. This war was 
known as Queen Anne’s War, because Anne was 
Queen of England. The French had the help of the 
Indians to the north, and they fought by making 
night attacks on small villages on the outskirts of 
New England. The winter of 1704 must have been 
a stiff one, because the histories say there were four 
feet of snow on the ground here in the Deerfield 
meadows, and it had drifted up over the stockade of 
the town so you could walk over the high fence on 
the crust. Every night the Deerfield people posted 
sentinels, to watch for an attack, but these sentinels 
grew lax. It seemed incredible that anybody, even 


IN ANCIENT DEERFIELD 


231 


Indians, could tramp through four feet of snow, in a 
pathless wilderness, clear from Canada. On the last 
night of February, 1704, the sentinels grew sleepy 
toward morning, and the town was unguarded. 

“ But somebody had tramped clear from Canada 
— two hundred French soldiers and one hundred and 
forty-two Indians. They had come over mountains 
and rivers, through the primeval wilderness, more 
than two hundred miles, with the snow four feet 
deep on the level. The Indians had taught the 
French how to use snow-shoes. That was how they 
did it.” 

“ Some hike, just the same ! ” said Peanut. 
“ Whew ! two hundred miles on snow-shoes and 
sleeping out on the snow, too ! That beats us ! ” 

“ It does,” Mr. Rogers went on. “ And they came 
into some pine woods over there across the meadows 
on the evening of the last day of February and hid 
there, waiting till the sentinels disappeared. Can’t 
you imagine some of those Indians, on snow-shoes, 
wrapped in furs, sneaking round the town and scout- 
ing till they saw the sentinels leave their posts? 
Toward morning the word went back to the French 
and Indians waiting in the pines. The whole band 
moved over the snow, sneaked like ghosts over the 
drifts that made the stockade easy to scale, dropped 
into the enclosure, and with a wild yell began the at- 
tack. 


232 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“Think — the poor people of Deerfield sound 
asleep in their beds, suddenly to hear the wild war- 
whoop, the crack of guns, and to know that they 
were caught in a trap ! Forty-seven of them died 
fighting. One hundred and twelve were captured, 
including the minister and his wife and children. 
Only a few escaped. The Indians and French set 
fire to the town, and all but one house and the church 
were burned to the ground. Then, at daybreak, be- 
fore help could come, the poor prisoners, many of 
them women and children, were led away over the 
snow, in midwinter, on the long march back through 
the wilderness to Canada. Two men starved on that 
fearful trip. Many more grew too weak or sick to 
travel, and the Indians killed them. Those who did 
survive were finally ransomed and brought back 
to New England. It must have been a terrible 
experience. It makes you wonder how those ances- 
tors of ours had the courage, when spring came, to 
rebuild Deerfield, and go on living there.” 

“ I bet the sentinels kept awake after that!” said 
Peanut. 

“ The Indians were terribly cruel, weren’t they ? ” 
somebody else remarked. 

“Well, it seems to me the Indians weren’t so 
much to blame as the French,” said Rob. “ They 
were only savages, and besides, the white men had 
been taking their land from them. But the French 


IN ANCIENT DEERFIELD 233 

knew better. They were worse than the Indians, to 
let the Indians kill women and children.” 

“ A man — or a boy — who knows better and uses 
somebody else who doesn’t know better to do his dirty 
work for him, is always worse than the fellow who 
actually does the work,” said Mr. Rogers. “ Any- 
how, the Deerfield that finally rose from the ashes 
of 1 704 was pretty much the Deerfield we see to-day 
— except for the trolley track. But they don’t need 
any sentinels now.” 

“ Not to watch me ! ” said Peanut, yawning. 
“ Me for the hay.” 

He rolled himself up in his blanket, in the open 
meadow under the stars, and one by one the other 
Chipmunks followed suit. 


CHAPTER XXIV 
Home Again 

HE hex t morning, after their night under the 



i open sky, the boys plunged early into the 
stream for a bath, had breakfast, and went back to 
the village to see the relics of the colonial days in 
the little brick museum on the one side street of 
Deerfield — old spinning-wheels, flint-lock muskets, 
Indian stones for grinding corn, warming pans, 
tomahawks, and a hundred other relics of a primi- 
tive day, which they had read about but never seen. 
Then, while Rob took the trolley up to the large 
town of Greenfield two miles away, to buy new first 
aid kits, the rest of the scouts piled into a field 
where they saw some Deerfield boys playing ball, 
and challenged them to a game. When Rob got 
back toward noon he found the Chipmunks going 
in to bat in the eighth inning, with the enormous 
lead of eighteen ^Uns to five. Maurice had turned 
out to be his school pitcher — a fact which he had 
modestly kept to himself — and with Peanut to hold 
him, had the other crowd at his mercy. Peanut, 
small though he was, could pick off the bat like a 
robin picking cherries. 


234 


HOME AGAIN 


235 

“ Some battery ! ” he grinned in the ninth, as he 
caught a man trying to steal second. 

When the game was over, the scouts suggested 
a swim, and the Deerfield boys went with them. 
Then came the question of lunch. “ Come on, you 
fellers, and eat with us ! ” cried Peanut. “ We’ll cook 
you a real meal ! ” 

The inroads on the day’s supply of bacon, eggs, 
bread and buckwheat flour were something tre- 
mendous. The Deerfield boys knew little about 
cooking, but a whole lot about eating. As the meal 
progressed, they grew more and more interested in 
the scouts. 

“ And you fellows have walked way over here 
from Southmead?” said one of them. 

“ Hiked” Peanut corrected. 

“ Hiked,” the other repeated, eager to get the 
right word — “ hiked way over here ? And you 
sleep out, and cook, and have adventures ? ” 

“ Adventures ! I should say we did ! ” cried the 
scouts, all trying at once to tell about the train 
wreck, and about Pulpit Rock, and Greylock. 

“ Where can we find out how to form a scout 
troop ? ” one of the older boys asked. 

“Write to the National Headquarters of the 
Boy Scouts of America,” said Rob ; “ here, I’ll 
write down the address for you. Get somebody 
older, a man like Mr. Rogers, to be scout-master 


236 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

and show you how to organize. You’ll have lots 
of fun ! ” 

“ You bet you will I ” cried the Chipmunks. 

So it was a crowd of new friends the scouts 
finally said good-bye to at the lower end of the 
Deerfield street, and of new friends who would 
soon, perhaps, be scouts themselves, and as the 
Chipmunks started off on the first stage for home 
they felt they had done a good morning’s work in 
more ways than one. 

“We are kind of missionaries, aren’t we?” laughed 
Rob. 

“Gee, but they’re easy marks at baseball,” was 
Peanut’s comment. 

The Chipmunks were coming home by a southern 
route, through a thinly settled, mountainous country 
which even Mr. Rogers was unacquainted with. 
They had to study their way by the maps. They 
were very low in provisions, thanks to the dinner 
given to the Deerfield boys, and it was necessary 
to make Conway that afternoon, a matter of eight 
or nine miles. Eight or nine miles on top of a base- 
ball game is not so easy, when you are carrying a 
pack and a blanket roll, but the troop made it, re- 
newed provisions in the little village, and camped 
outside for the night. From that point the home- 
ward trip was uneventful. Mostly it lay through 
steep, wooded country, with tiny villages far apart, 


HOME AGAIN 


237 


and never the sight nor sound of a railroad or trolley. 
For two whole days they did not see an automobile, 
nor even the tracks of one. But they saw deer 
tracks in plenty, rabbits ran across the road ahead 
of them, and they had fresh fish more than once out 
of the ponds they passed. 

The third day they tramped nine miles to the 
town of Washington, and saw a railroad at last, the 
Boston and Albany. The railroad depot was about 
the only sign of a town they could see. Mr. Rogers 
consulted the map. 

“ It’s six or seven miles more over October Moun- 
tain to the trolley,” he said. “ Shall we try it, and 
get home to-night ? ” 

“ No ! ” cried the boys. 

“ Too tired ? ” he asked. 

“ No,” they cried again, “but what is the use of 
getting home ? Let’s push on and camp on October 
Mountain right where we had our first fire ! ” 

“ All right.” 

“ Hooray ! ” 

The ascent from Washington was but a couple of 
miles. Once on familiar ground, the troop broke 
up with a shout and began to scout for the relics of 
their first camp-fire, a year or more ago. Arthur 
was the first to find it, and by the time the rest came 
up he had a fire going in the old ring of stones. 

“ Some different from last time ! ” cried Peanut, 


238 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

as he fixed his bacon and sliced potatoes in the fry- 
ing-pan with the ease of a skilled camper, and set 
them over the coals to sizzle. “ My, we’ve learned 
a lot since then 1 ” 

“And been a lot,” said Willie, looking at his 
boots. “ Guess my left shoe’ll just about hold to- 
gether till we get home.” 

“ Might as well wash up, if this is our last camp,” 
ordered Rob. “ Everybody change, and do his 
laundry.” 

Soon shirts and socks were wrung out and hung 
on limbs to dry, and the patrol lay down for their 
last sleep in the open. 

“ Don’t believe I can ever sleep in a house again 
with any comfort,” said Peanut drowsily, as he 
curled up in his blanket. 

“ I know I shall never want to,” said Maurice. 

Before morning, however, some of the boys 
thought differently ! For the first time in their trip, 
it rained in the night — not a shower, but a steady 
downpour. They woke and by the light of a splut- 
tering fire hastily got under the thickest branches and 
rigged their rubber ponchos over them. But even 
so, the rain would get through, and it was a dismal 
and more or less sleepless wait till morning. 

Breakfast was a hasty affair. Packing their 
“ laundry ” (which, of course, was again as wet as 
when they hung it out in the evening), they all 


HOME AGAIN 


239 


thrust their heads through the holes in their ponchos, 
took a last drink of hot coffee, and started out 
through the dripping woods and then along muddy 
roads, the rain falling steadily. One mile, two 
miles, three miles, four miles — tramp, tramp, tramp, 
nobody saying much, Peanut grinning, however, 
and declaring he didn’t mind. And then the main 
road and the trolley. Everybody’s shoes and hat 
were soaked. Everybody’s pack was heavy, and it 
was hot under the rubber ponchos. 

“Shall we take the trolley, boys?” asked Mr. 
Rogers. 

“Yes!” cried some. 

But Peanut, Art, Rob and Maurice cried, “ No ! 
Let’s finish her out ! Let’s come into town on our 
own feet. It’s only five miles. Let’s not be quit- 
ters.” 

“My shoe won’t stand it,” wailed Willie. “The 
sole’s half off now.” 

“ All the better,” said Dennie ; “ the water can run 
out. Wish mine was ! ” 

A halt was made, and dry wood found with great 
difficulty, while the last of the coffee and the last of 
the bacon were prepared. The boys felt better after 
the hot drink. Suddenly Peanut dived into his 
pocket. “ Say,” he cried, “ I can't go home by 
trolley. I’ve got only three cents left, and the fare’s 


2 4 o THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ Now, you see, if you hadn’t bought that candy 
at Shelburne Falls,” began Dennie. 

" How much have you got ? ” asked Peanut. 

Dennie felt, a comical look of amazement spread- 
ing over his face. “ I haven’t any” he said finally, 
after searching every pocket. 

“ Humph 1 ” retorted Peanut. “ You didn’t even 
have any candy ! ” 

One by one the boys felt in their pockets. At 
least half of them had figured so close that they 
didn’t have enough left to get home by trolley. Mr. 
Rogers smiled and signaled to Rob and those who 
had money left not to offer to loan any. 

“ It’s all because those Deerfield fellers ate a whole 
day’s rations ! ” said Prattie. 

“ Ah, go on, don’t be a tightwad ! ” cried Pea- 
nut. “ Guess we can treat, if we do have to walk 
for it.” 

“ That’s the spirit,” said Rob. “ I’ll lend you ten 
cents for that, if you want to ride ! ” 

“ Ride nothing,” Peanut replied. “ I’m going 
back into Southmead on shank’s mare.” 

“ Shank’s mare ! Hooray for old shank’s mare ! ” 
cried Willie. “ Guess the old mare’ll have to be 
shod to-morrow ! ” and he flapped the loose sole of 
his left foot. 

So once more the procession started in the rain 
and mud, marched in good order through the streets 


V 


HOME AGAIN 


241 


of the next town, struck across back roads by a short 
cut for Southmead, and two hours later in the 
afternoon, in column of twos, Peanut whistling, 
Willie singing shrilly, all the boys shouting at their 
friends, the Chipmunk Patrol, wet, muddy, half un- 
recognizable under their rubber ponchos and soggy 
brimmed hats, swung up to the Southmead post- 
office, and came to a halt. 

Men came out of the post-office, the grocery store, 
the drug store, the bank, to greet them. The other 
scouts who chanced to be in the village came run- 
ning up. 

“Where’s the band?” cried Peanut. “You 
oughter have a band to welcome us ! ” 

Just then Peanut’s mother came out of the store 
and heard him. “Band?” she said. “You go 
home and get on some dry shoes ! ” 

“Yes, ma’am,” said Peanut. “And say, ma, have 
something different from bacon for supper ! ” 

“ It will be kind of good to get something different 
to eat,” said Rob. “ Let’s see how far we’ve been 
before we break up.” 

Mr. Rogers and Art compared pedometers. One 
read one hundred and fifty-one miles, the other one 
hundred and forty-seven. 

“We’ll split it, and call it one hundred and forty- 
nine,” said the scout-master. “ One hundred and 
forty-nine miles in ten days. Somebody ought to 


242 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

write up the trip to keep for a history in the Scout 
House.” 

“ Let me do it ! ” 

“No, me.” 

“ Aw, you can’t write well. Let me ! ” 

“ Let Rob do it.” 

“ Rob ! Rob ! He’s leader.” 

“ All right,” said Rob. “ I’ll do it in a big blank 
book. Now, I say three cheers for Mr. Rogers.” 

The cheers were given. 

“You ought to give three for Maurice, boys; it 
was his scheme to start with,” said the scout-master. 

So three more went up for Maurice, and the long 
hike was over. Reggie and Maurice tramped up 
the hill to the great mansion there, Willie and Lou 
went off in the other direction to the humble houses 
where they lived. Peanut, his grinning face, drip- 
ping wet, rising out of his black poncho, dashed into 
the drug store to spend his last three cents for candy, 
and Mr. Rogers, tired but satisfied, entered the post- 
office to get his mail. 


CHAPTER XXV 


Building the Track 
ND now for the track ! ” said Joe Donovan, at 



the next general scout meeting, after the 
Chipmunks had told about their hike and Rob had 
displayed a blank book filled with the story, neatly 
written out, with maps and some photographs of 
Deerfield inserted, and had placed the blank book 
among the other scout trophies in the closet, and the 
Owls and the rest had told about their camping trip. 

“ The track ! ” cried the scouts. 

“ I’ve seen the selectmen,” Joe went on, “and 
they have given us permission to build a quarter- 
mile track on the play field, around the diamond. 
The next thing is to get it surveyed.” 

“ Mr. Boutwell will do that for us, I’m sure,” said 
Mr. Rogers. “ He’s a civil engineer I know who is 
staying at the hotel for the summer. Joe, you and 
Teddy Bear and Rob and the other patrol leaders 
come with me to-morrow morning to see him.” 

Mr. Boutwell readily assented. “That’s easy,” 
he said. “ How long are your straight aways on 
the sides ? ” 

“ One-hundred-and-twenty yards,” answered Mr. 
Rogers. 


?43 


244 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ And how far out from the pole do you measure 
for your quarter mile ? ” 

“ Eighteen inches is the rule for a running track.” 

The surveyor took a piece of paper and began to 
figure. Presently he told this result to the boys. 

“ Well, if you want to be very accurate, your two 
sides should be 187.98 feet apart, on the pole, and 
the pole swung around the curve at each end on a 
radius of 93.99 feet from a point midway between 
the ends of the straight away. The only dimension 
you really need to remember is the radius, 93.99 
feet Is that clear ? ” 

“ Well — I don’t quite understand it,” said Joe with 
a laugh. “ Do you mind explaining how you did 
it?” 

“It’s really quite simple,” said the man. M Your 
track is to be a quarter mile, or four-hundred-and- 
forty yards. If you have two straight sides one 
hundred and twenty yards long each, that leaves 
just two hundred yards, or six hundred feet, of 
curved track at the two ends, doesn’t it ? In other 
words, you have two half circles with a total circum- 
ference of six hundred feet. 

“ Well, to find out the diameter of a circle, you 
divide the circumference by 3.1416. Divide 600 by 
that, and you get 190.98, don’t you? That’s the 
diameter of your circle, but remember, you have half 
the circle on one end of the track, half on the other, 


BUILDING THE TRACK 


245 


so you divide this diameter by two. That gives you 
95.49 feet. However, your pole is eighteen inches 
inside the quarter-mile line, so you have to subtract 
1.50 feet from 95.49 feet, getting 93.99 feet as your 
half diameter at each end. All we’ve got to do is to 
swing a tape in a half circle 93.99 feet out from a 
stake in the centre to get the end of our track. It’s 
really pretty simple, you see. Here, I’ll draw you 
a diagram of the way to lay down the pole of a 
quarter-mile track.” 

He took a ruler and compass, and in a few mo- 
ments handed the boys this sketch, which showed 
the dimensions at a glance : 



“The part you couldn’t do accurately alone, 
boys,” the surveyor went on, “ is getting the lines 
C-D and C-E, or any of the four corners, at exactly 
right angles. You’ll need me for that. Now we’ll 
go down and stake the track out. While I get my 


246 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

transit ready, you boys get a whole basket of stakes 
and a hatchet.” 

It was decided to lay the track in such a way that 
the ball diamond was near one end, the track pass- 
ing through deep left and right fields, one turn 
passing directly behind the back stop, the other far 
out beyond centre. Mr. Boutwell now drove a stake 
close to the home plate. Then he sent the boys 
with a one-hundred-yard steel tape to drive another 
stake beyond second base in deep centre one hun- 
dred and twenty yards away. 

“ Now,” said he, “ we have our two main points, 
A and B, established. Next we want four stakes at 
exact right angles to this centre line, marking the 
four points on the pole of the track where the bends 
begin. They are C, D, E and F on my diagram.” 

He set his transit over stake A with the plumb 
grazing the nail which marked the centre of the 
stake, leveled it, took his angle from stake B, and 
swung the spy-glass round ninety degrees. 

“ Now take the tape out from stake A,” he said, 
“ and drive a stake where I tell you.” 

The boys measured off the distance, 93.99 feet, 
and he, squinting through the glass, gestured with 
his arms, first right, then left, till they held the stake 
at a point where it was at an exact right angle to 
the line between stakes A and B. Then he made a 
downward motion, and the stake was driven in. 


BUILDING THE TRACK 


247 

This process was repeated with the other three 
corner stakes. 

“ Now,” said the surveyor, “ the rest is a pickle. 
One of you hold an end of the tape on stake A, and 
swing it round the arc from stake C to stake D, 
keeping it always 93.99 feet long, and driving stakes 
at the end, pretty close together. That will give 
you one bend. Then do the same for the other 
bend, from E to F. Then you’ll have the entire pole 
for your track. Better drive a few stakes along the 
straight away, too, to keep the line, while I have my 
instrument here to help.” 

In a couple of hours there was the pole of the 
track, plain to see, indicated by white stakes in the 
grass. 

“ It’s not so hard, after all,” said the Teddy Bear. 

“ Not when you know how,” replied Joe. 

Next came the work of ploughing. Joe Rathbun 
and Milt Noble were both farmers’ sons, and they 
begged ploughs from their fathers. Two other 
scouts drove the horses, while Milt and Joe held the 
handles. The sod was ploughed for a distance of 
ten feet from the pole on all but one straight away. 
That side, to make room to run off the dashes, had 
to be wider. Then a disk harrow was driven round 
and round to chop up the turf, and a drag harrow 
followed it to smooth the surface. 

Now, with the sod ploughed under and the dark, 


248 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

rich soil freshly turned up, the track was plain to 
see. Half the village gathered on the play field to 
watch. 

The next task was one for all the scouts. Muster- 
ing all available wheelbarrows, rakes, hoes and 
spades, and borrowing a heavy hand roller from the 
golf club, the boys went to work smoothing the sur- 
face, filling up the hollows, leveling down the high 
places, and packing the earth solid. When you get 
more than forty boys working hard on a quarter of 
a mile of track, it doesn’t take long to show results. 
In two more days the track was level and hard, and 
almost good enough to run on. 

“ Why do we need ashes ? ” asked Prattie. 

“ Leave this a week, and see,” laughed half a 
dozen. “ It would be so full of weeds you’d have 
to mow it.” 

Now came the hardest part of all — covering the 
track with a layer of cinders and ashes, 'to make a 
permanent surface, free of grass and weeds. Mr. 
Van Antwerp gave the boys the use of one of his 
farm wagons, and Milt’s father gave another. The 
boys decided to use the funds in their treasury to 
hire two more, and if they hadn’t money enough, 
to trust to the coming track meet to raise more. 
Round the town went the teams, the boys and the 
horses grimy and gray with the dust, collecting coal 
ashes from everybody. Fifteen loads came from the 


BUILDING THE TRACK 


249 


hotel boiler room. From the paper factory came 
twenty-five loads of fine, black cinders, the best of 
all track material. Other boys worked with wheel- 
barrows, carting the ashes as fast as they were 
dumped and spreading them with rakes an inch 
deep all over the track. At last the track was cov- 
ered, and fortunately a thunder-shower came, soak- 
ing it down, so that it could be rolled, after the flat- 
tired farm wagons were driven round and round it 
to pack the ashes down. 

One thing more remained to build — the corner for 
field events. This was put ofi on one side. An 
eight-inch plank, painted white, was spiked into the 
ground, flush with the surface, for the broad jumps, 
a cinder path built leading up to it, and the ground 
spaded up beyond. Another path was made for the 
high jump and pole vault, and the ground spaded 
up at the end, to land in. Finally, a seven-foot 
circle was made for the shot put, with a curved piece 
of wood marking a portion of it, coming two inches 
up above the ground, so that the putter would not 
step out of the circle and foul. 

“ There ! ” cried Joe, dirty, hot, tired, but trium- 
phant. “ She’s done ! ” 

With a bound he sprang upon the new track and 
began to run. All the scouts followed him, and 
there was a mad race of forty boys around the new 
cinder path. The next day training began in earnest. 


CHAPTER XXVI 
The Field Day 


ATE September came, and with it frost-touched 



nights and bracing days — and the first meet on 
the new track. The meet was a larger affair than 
the other one ; more boys were to have a chance to 
compete, and a good deal more than running was 
included on the program. Indeed, an all Saturday 
field day was planned, with a noon camp-fire. 

This was to be the morning program : First, a 
fire making competition between two Southmead 
Chipmunks and two scouts from one of the Brook- 
ville smaller patrols. To each contestant was given 
an axe, a one-foot log of hard wood, a one-foot log 
of pine, a handful of dry, dead grass, some good- 
sized stones, a kettle and two matches. The first 
boy to get the water boiling in his kettle won five 
points, the second three, and the third one. The 
water was to be drawn from a tap at the far end of 
the field, so that the competition included a two- 
hundred-yard dash with a kettle of water in one 
hand ! The kettle had to be at least two-thirds full. 

The second competition was in advanced first aid, 
and the third in elementary first aid. They were 


THE FIELD DAY 


251 


alike, however. A boy from each side was laid out 
in the middle of the field with a tag placed on him 
secretly by the judges (two doctors) telling what was 
supposed to be his injury. Then, on signal, a team 
of three scouts from each town, equipped only with 
staffs, coats and a first aid kit, rushed out, read the 
tags, treated their man, and brought him back on an 
improvised stretcher to the judges. Speed counted 
one point, thoroughness of bandaging, etc., four 
points. Thus there was a chance for both sides to 
score something. 

Finally came a semaphore competition down the 
length of the field, speed to count two points and 
accuracy three points. 

At noon, the two troops were to gather round 
a friendly camp-fire and cook their own dinners. 
Then, in the afternoon, was to come the track meet, 
much as before, save this time the younger boys 
had high and broad jumps, also, both running and 
standing. It made a full day, and both sides had 
been training hard for it during the entire month 
just passed. Arthur Bruce, knowing his limitations 
in running, had gone in for the fire making, and 
both he and Peanut could split up a log and make 
a blaze with great speed and sureness. Rob, of 
course, was at the head of the advanced first aid 
team, and Sam Henry, one of the Owls, at the head 
of the elementary. Reggie (who was not going 


252 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

back to school in New York till the first of October) 
had worked up the semaphore signaling with Pea- 
nut, and in the jumps for the junior scouts Lou 
Merritt looked like a sure point winner. The relay 
team for the new cup stood as in the spring. 

The fateful Saturday dawned clear and fine. The 
badges had come from New York, the boys had sold 
three hundred tickets for the meet at ten cents 
apiece, and three hundred more had been sold in 
Brookville, making the total receipts sixty dollars, 
which much more than paid for the badges and the 
teams which had hauled the cinders. Those boys 
who were not in the events wore their scout uniforms 
and acted as police of the grounds, to keep the crowd 
back, because there was no grand stand on the play 
field, and no fence around the track. The Brook- 
ville scouts, seventy-five strong, with two car loads 
of “ rooters,” arrived at ten o’clock, and were wel- 
comed by half the town of Southmead and a cheer 
from the scouts. Then the fun began. 

The first event, the fire making competition, set a 
fast pace for entertainment. The two troops of 
scouts, gathered in a great ring around the contest- 
ants, cheered excitedly, but the spectators behind 
them roared with laughter. 

There stood, in four piles, the axes, stones, wood, 
kettles, dry grass, and on top of each pile two 
lone matches. Peanut, Art, and two Brookville 


THE FIELD DAY 


253 


boys stood ten feet away. “ Go ! ” cried the starter, 
and each boy dove at his pile, seized his axe, and 
began to chop frantically. One boy tried to split his 
kindling log on the ground, and got his axe stuck. 

“ Pull it out 1 ” 

“Split it against a stone ! ” 

“ Build your oven first I ” 

“ Take your time ! ” 

“ Don’t break your matches ! ” 

“ Take it easy ! ” 

“ Look out for the wind! ” 

Arthur, not heeding the shouts, built his fire ring 
first, with two stones fixed to hold the kettle over the 
flames. Then he laid in his dry grass, split ofi some 
chips from the pine log and laid them on, stacked the 
rest over as kindlings, split his hard wood very fine, 
though the others were already ahead of him, and, 
carefully shielding his match, started the fire. Mean- 
while one Brookville boy had broken both matches 
in his haste, and was hunting frantically in the grass 
for the sulphur ends. His team mate and Peanut 
both had their fires lighted, and were grabbing for 
their kettles. 

The ring broke to let them through. 

“ Go it, Peanut ! ” 

“Go it, Bill!” 

“ Peanut can beat him running.” 

“ Can he, though ? ” 


254 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

The crowd had forgotten Arthur, turning to watch 
the race between Peanut and Bill! But now Arthur 
saw that his fire was going well, with the hard wood 
chopped in a dozen pieces to get quick results, and 
he picked up his kettle and dashed for the tap. The 
fourth boy couldn’t find his match ends in time to 
be in the race, that was certain. 

When Peanut got back from the tap, leading Bill 
by fifty yards, as he got to the water faucet first, he 
found his fire out ! He had dashed away too soon. 
He had to relight it with his second match, and lost 
all his advantage. 

But Art came back to a fire blazing fiercely and 
hot, set on his kettle, and waited. The judges stood 
over the fires and watched for the bubbles. Arthur 
won by a full minute. The contest was close be- 
tween Peanut and Bill, but Peanut’s fatal haste just 
lost him second place. The crowd laughed and 
cheered, the fires were put out, and the first aid con- 
tests began. 

Rob, Dutch and the Teddy Bear were the South- 
mead advance team. When they reached their man, 
they found him labeled, “ Bitten on the ankle by a 
rattlesnake.” The other man on the ground, whom 
the Brookville scouts were to treat, was labeled, 
“ Bitten on the hand by a moccasin.” 

The two teams went to work, while the doctors, as 
judges, stood over them. Each leader applied a 


THE FIELD DAY 


255 


tourniquet above the wound, Rob’s being done the 
quicker and firmer, while a second member of the 
team sucked the wound. Meanwhile the third man 
was getting out the contents of the kit. Rob’s kit 
had been carefully planned for every emergency, and 
contained a vial of strong ammonia, with which he 
pretended to burn the wound, while Dutch gave the 
patient aromatic spirits of ammonia as a stimulant. 
Then a stretcher was improvised with coats and 
staffs, and the body picked up and rushed away “ to 
the doctor.” The other team, having no strong am- 
monia to burn the wound with, debated heating the 
blade of a jack-knife in a fire and burning the wound 
with that. They decided, however, that it would be 
better to rush their patient, also, “ to a doctor,” and 
followed the lead of the other team. Of course, 
Southmead won all five points here. The Brookville 
team protested that they had no strong ammonia, 
which lost them their chance, but the judges ruled 
that as long as treatment for snake bites was one of 
the tests in advanced first aid, it was permissible to 
add strong ammonia to the advanced aid kit. 

Next came the elementary first aid test. Sam 
Henry and his team found a fracture to treat. So 
did the other team. “ Splints ! ” cried Sam and the 
other leader. Because the Southmead team knew 
where splints were to be found — since they were on 
their own play field — they got to work first, and 


256 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

beat out the others in speed, scoring a point. But 
the doctors gave the four points for thoroughness to 
Brookville. 

“ Too much haste makes a bad job of broken 
bones, boys,” said one of the judges. “You didn’t 
have that splint on firmly.” And to prove it, he gave 
Sam’s splint a twist so that it came half off. 

Now the signaling began. Peanut and a Brook- 
ville scout were stationed at one end of the field, 
with flags, and in front of each, on a music rack, 
was placed a card with a message written on it. 
Each message contained about fifty words, and 
about three hundred letters. Reggie and his op- 
ponent stood at the other end of the field, and took 
down the messages on a pad of paper. The rest of 
the scouts of both towns kept the field cleared be- 
tween the senders and receivers. Of course, nobody 
but the judges had seen the messages before the 
contest began. 

“Go !” cried the starter. 

Peanut and his rival began to semaphore with the 
flags. Reggie and his rival began to put down the 
letters. The crowd watched in silence, nobody ex- 
cept the scouts having the slightest idea what the 
signals meant. 

“ It’s all Greek to me ! ” laughed the Congrega- 
tional minister. “ But the boys seem to know what 
it means.” 


THE FIELD DAY 


257 


Peanut and Reggie were still sending and taking 
when the other two were done. A cheer went up 
from the Brookville crowd. “ We’ve won ! ” they 
cried. 

“ Two points,” came the answer ; “ accuracy counts 
three.” 

In a moment Peanut ceased sending. Then the 
judges compared the messages sent with those the 
receivers had written on their pads. Reggie had 
his message correct. But this was the strange 
sentence found in the message on the Brookville 
receiver’s pad : 

“ Am sending dead men to aid you. Hold posi- 
tion if you possibly can.” 

The judges laughed as they read this aloud. 

“What ought it to be?” half a dozen voices 
cried. 

“ Why,” said one of the judges, “ this was sup- 
posed to be a message from a commander to one of 
his generals in a battle, and it reads, ‘ Am sending 
4514 men to aid you.’ We put in the numerals on 
purpose, of course. Either the sender forgot to 
make his numeral sign, or the receiver didn’t see it. 
4-5- 1-4 are the same motions as d-e-a-d, but it 
might make some difference to a general whether 
he had 4514 live men or 4514 dead men to help 
him fight. I guess Southmead gets three points 
on that.” 


258 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

The two Brookville boys retired, and those near 
them heard a conversation something like this : 

“ I did.” 

“ You didn’t.” 

“ You didn’t see, that’s all.” 

“Yes, I did see. I put down everything . You 
didn’t signal numerals.” 

“ I did.” 

“ You didn’t.” 

“You’d better get a new pair o’ lamps.” 

“ You’d better get some new brains.” 

“ You ” 

“ That’s enough, kids,” came suddenly from one 
of their older comrades. “ Mistakes will happen. 
Come to camp-fire.” 

Thus the morning ended with Southmead 
leading on the day’s score, 15 to 9. Those six 
points stood them in good stead when afternoon 
came. Hard as they had trained, the Brookville 
boys had trained just as hard, and though Dutch 
Hoffman had added two feet to his pole vaulting 
ability, two Brookville vaulters still led him, and 
Milt Noble was still second in the shot put, and 
several second and third places which had gone to 
Southmead in the spring they now lost entirely. 
Joe Rathbun, of course, was still unbeatable in the 
dashes, and Peanut won the fifty-yard dash and 
potato race again, amid wild cheering, and Lou 


THE FIELD DAY 


259 


Merritt, who was a remarkable jumper for his size, 
got a clean twenty points in the four jumps for 
the youngsters. Brookville, however, took all the 
seconds and thirds in these events, thus making 
sixteen points themselves. 

It was late in the afternoon when the teams were 
called for the relay race. There was tremendous 
excitement around the track. Brookville led, 87 to 
80, for the new events had added a total of fifty- 
nine points to the total score of the former meet. 
The relay race again counted ten points. Thus 
the team which won it won the meet. At least 
four or five hundred more people had come down 
from the village, or arrived by trolley, since noon. 
They made a living wall half-way round the track, 
massed thickest at the finish line. The scouts were 
working hard to keep them off the track itself, and 
Peanut took a malicious pleasure in shoving the 
fattest men in the pits of their stomachs, crying, 
“ Stand back, there ! ” 

Now the relay runners took their places. The 
pistol cracked, loud and clear in the breathless si- 
lence. Fred Browning and his rival were off, twice 
around the track. Fred had grown in the past year 
into full stature, though he was still a few months 
short of eighteen years. He was powerful, long 
legged, deep chested now. He knew what he could 
do, and he set out at a great clip to run the other man 


260 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


off his feet. He led him by twenty yards on the first 
lap, and added ten yards more on the second, amid 
great cheering. Rob had such a lead for the one- 
hundred-yard dash that he sent the Teddy Bear 
on his way for the quarter still almost thirty yards 
to the good, and though the Brookville scout ran a 
great race, and almost caught Teddy at the top of 
the stretch, he had come so hard to do it that he 
was all in, and Teddy Bear in the last hundred put 
back eight or ten yards’ lead. Thus Joe Donovan 
was away for the final mile in advance of his man — 
not enough in advance greatly to help, but just 
enough to make Wheelock sprint to catch him, and 
every sprint in a mile run takes just so much out of 
the runner. 

Wheelock sprinted, however, and though Joe put 
on something extra, too, and kept him back for three 
hundred yards, he finally caught up and settled 
down doggedly at Joe’s heels. Thus they went a 
second time around the track, and a third. The 
crowd was yelling all the time. As they passed the 
finish on the third lap a howl went up. 

“ Trim him this time, Wheelock ! ” 

“ Remember how you beat him before, Joe ! ” 

“ Don’t sprint too soon, Wheelock ! ” 

“ Kill him off, Joe ! ” 

“We can’t let ’em win this, Brookville !” 

“ This means the meet, Joe ! ” 


THE FIELD DAY 


261 


“ Go to it, Southmead ! ” 

“ Eat him alive, Joel” 

Joe’s face was set, his jaw thrust out, a corner of 
his eye half watching Wheelock behind him. Joe, 
in the race a year ago, had realized that he had 
more sprint in him then than his rival. Now he was 
in better condition than a year ago. He wondered 
if Wheelock had improved enough to hold him. He 
resolved to force the race, and trust to his own nerve 
to carry him through if Wheelock responded. In the 
back stretch he began to put on more power. The 
crowd detected it, and a great roar went up from the 
scouts. 

“Go it, Joe 1 ” 

“ Follow him, Wheelock ! ” 

Wheelock followed. At the turn Joe steamed 
harder. Still Wheelock followed him. Then, com- 
ing into the stretch, Joe threw open the throttle at 
one- hundred- and -twenty yards from the tape and 
ran for all he was worth. He could not hear, amid 
the din of shouts and cheering, whether Wheelock 
was at his heels or not. He just kept on for that 
distant piece of white yarn across the track, far off 
down there through two walls of human faces. 

But he didn’t need to sprint so hard, had he but 
known it. Wheelock was all in. Fifty yards from 
the tape he wabbled and the gap between him and 
Joe widened from two yards to eight before he stag- 


262 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


gered over the line. Joe had, with the help of his 
handicap at the start, simply worn him down. Joe’s 
time was announced as four minutes, fifty-eight sec- 
onds, which is remarkably fast for such a meet, and 
proclaimed Joe a real runner. 

So Southmead won both the silver cup and the 
field day, by the final score of 90 to 87. 

Again Joe was the hero of the hour, again each 
side cheered the other before the badges were distrib- 
uted, and again the closeness of the meet, the con- 
sequent excitement, the eager strife, left everybody 
in a tingle of excitement and rivalry. 

“We’ll get you yet!” was the parting call of the 
Brookville scouts, as they left for home. 

“ We’ll be right here waiting,” came back the defi- 
ant answer. 

“ Do you know who won the meet ? ” said Joe, at 
the club house that night. 

“You did ! ” the boys cried. 

“ No,” said Joe, “ Art Bruce did it, with his little 
hatchet, — like George Washington. That first five 
points of his saved the day.” 

“ No, sir,” said Art, “ I didn’t win it. We all won 
it!” 

“ Hooray ! ” cried Peanut, “ and we can do it 
again ! ” 


CHAPTER XXVII 

Peanut and Art Make a Dog Sledge 


OW winter came again, and with it basket and 



-L A handball indoors, and outdoors, beside hockey 
and coasting, long Saturday hikes through the 
woods, reading the thousand records of animal life 
in the tracks on the snow, or playing scout games. 
Reaching a large stretch of woodland, one boy, called 
a “fugitive,” would start out with a ten-minute 
handicap and hide himself not too far away, endeav- 
oring, of course, to conceal or make blind his tracks as 
much as possible while getting there. After ten min- 
utes the rest followed the tracks to the hiding place. 
If they could not find this hiding place within what the 
scout-master considered a reasonable time, the game 
was awarded to the fugitive, but if the rest of the pa- 
trol found the hiding place, the fugitive in hiding fired 
at them with snowballs. They were to return the 
fire, of course. As soon as a man was hit, he had to 
drop out “dead.” But the fugitive had to be hit 
three times to be killed. If he had selected the 
right kind of a hiding place, with protection for him- 
self but none for his attackers, he could often pick off 
the entire patrol, and win the game. 


264 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


Another winter game which proved popular, and 
which combined practical hiking and camping, too, 
was devised by Peanut and Arthur, with the help 
of the scout “ Manual.” In the museum of the city of 
Pittsfield is Peary’s sledge, which went with him to 
the North Pole. Peanut and Arthur had seen this 
many times, and when they read in the “ Manual ” 
about playing “ Arctic expedition,” they set out to 
build a copy of Peary’s sledge. Of course their copy 
was much smaller, and not nearly so strong, for the 
boys could not get the leather thongs to bind it with, 
having to use nails on the frame. But, after all, it 
would not have to be used over such difficult 
country, nor carry such a heavy load. It was about 
six feet long, the two runners made out of planks 
stood on edge, and curved up like a boat prow in 
front. The top was made of light cross braces and 
interwoven rope. At the rear, two pieces came up 
like plough handles, and were connected by a cross- 
piece at the top. One boy, following the sledge, 
guided it and lifted it over bumps by means of this 
handle at the back. 

Of course, Peary’s sledge was hauled by dogs, 
and the first thing Peanut and Arthur did when 
they had finished theirs, was to hunt out a dog 
team. 

“ If somebody only had a couple of Esquimau dogs 
that we could borrow ! ” sighed Art. 


A DOG SLEDGE 


265 


“Never mind,” said Peanut, cheerfully. “We’ll 
try your collie, .Sandy, and Rob’s Airedale, Jim. 
Jim’s small but he’s strong.” 

They first made a harness with ropes and two 
leather breast straps for the dogs to pull by. Then 
they rounded up the dogs. The sledge stood in 
Peanut’s yard on the snow, the harness attached. 
Art brought Sandy down the hill, and up the road 
came Rob, with Jim capering at his heels, or dash- 
ing out to bark at passing teams — which is a bad 
trick Airedales have. The two dogs met by the 
sledge, first sniffed at each other, and then at the 
sledge, and instantly grew suspicious. One backed 
off to one side, the other to the other. Peanut 
picked up the harness and waited. 

“ Come, Jim, here, Jim, good Jim,” coaxed Rob. 

“ Here, Sandy, Sandy, Sandy,” wheedled Art. 

The two dogs drew near again, their tails and 
heads down as if they expected a whipping. Rob 
grabbed Jim and Art grabbed Sandy. They were 
backed and shoved into the harness and held there 
while Peanut made it fast around their necks and ad- 
justed the breast straps. 

“ Now put a leash on Sandy’s collar,” he cried, 
“ and lead ’em off ! ” 

The leash was put on, the boys stood free of the 
sledge, Art picked up the other end of the leash, and 
commanded, “ Get up ! ” 


266 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


The dogs sat down on the snow and began to 
paw at the harness. 

“ I didn’t say lie down, I said get up ! ” Arthur 
cried, laughing in spite of himself. “ Come, Sandy, 
come, Jim, come on, good boys ! ” He went ahead 
and tugged at the leash. The dogs rose, looking 
comically sheepish, as if they were ashamed of their 
position, and started toward him. The sled started, 
too. 

“ Hooray ! ” cried Peanut. 

But the moment they felt the tug of its weight 
against their chests, both dogs stopped short, sat 
down again, and with mouths and paws tried to get 
the harness off. 

Rob now took a hand. He and Art got Jim and 
Sandy on to their feet once more, and coaxed, threat- 
ened, pleaded, while the dogs either stood stock-still 
or tried to break away from the sled in opposite 
directions. And while this was going on, a motor 
came up the road. Now, motors were Jim’s pet 
aversion. He would chase a motor car any time, 
barking his head off, and seeming every second to 
be in danger of getting run over and killed. In 
winter, of course, there were few motors, but the 
doctor kept his in commission, and it was he who 
was passing now. Jim heard the car. He forgot 
his harness, he forgot his master, he forgot every- 
thing but that motor. With a howl and a yelp he 


A DOG SLEDGE 


267 


started for it. His sudden spring yanked the sledge 
forward on top of poor Sandy. Sandy, angry and 
astonished, got up and started to run, also, and as 
he was yoked to Jim, the only way he could run was 
the way Jim was running. Accordingly the sledge 
went out of the yard at a mile a minute, and disap- 
peared down the road, bounding and bumping, in the 
wake of the motor. The boys, with a yell, started 
after it. 

They found it a hundred yards down the street, 
overturned, with the steering handle broken. Sandy 
was snarled up in the harness, and lay in front, 
madly trying to paw himself free. Jim had broken 
his hitching, and was still in pursuit of the motor. 
The boys cut Sandy loose, and with one reproachful 
look back over his shoulder he slunk rapidly away 
toward home, and pretended not to hear Art calling 
after him. 

“I guess you’ve got to begin training dogs to 
haul a sledge when they’re puppies,” said Peanut. 

44 Looks as if we’d be our own dogs Saturday,” 
said Art. “ Wish Reggie was up here winters ; we 
could use his Shetland pony.” 

44 If wishes were horses beggars would ride,” 
laughed Peanut. 44 Come on, let’s get her mended.” 

So when Saturday came, the expedition started 
without dogs, but with Art, Rob, Peanut, Lou and 
Dennie hauling the sledge, loaded with axes, shovels 


268 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


and provisions. With a half hour start, they set out, 
without telling where they were going. At the end 
of the half hour all the other small patrols were to 
follow, tracking by the runner marks, and other trail 
left by the advance party. 

Rob led the sledge over fields and through woods, 
down traveled roads where it was hard for the pur- 
suing party to keep the trail, over a frozen pond, up 
a mountain finally, and when the patrols at last 
caught up, close on noon, the sled was near the 
summit, unloaded, and a fire was burning in the snow. 

“ Now for huts ! ” cried Peanut. 

Dividing into groups of four boys each, snow huts 
were built, by making solid walls three or four feet 
high, with a hole to crawl in through, and then plac- 
ing branches across for a roof, leaving a small open- 
ing for smoke and shoveling snow on top of the 
branches. In an hour there were six such huts, 
looking quite like an Esquimau encampment in the 
woods on top of a New England mountain. 

“ Hooray ! ” cried Peanut. “ Bring me some 
whale blubber and a couple of candles. I’m 
hungry ! ” 

The huts finished, the boys crawled on their 
stomachs in through the holes, and began to build 
little fires inside. Soon there were sounds of cough- 
ing and sneezing. One by one the boys crawled 
out again, rubbing their eyes. 


A DOG SLEDGE 269 

“Say, I don’t like this much/’ cried somebody. 
44 No Esquimau for me.” 

44 Maybe the drafts are not right,” said Rob. 
44 The roof hole ought to be right in the middle, and 
a very small fire made directly under it.” 

The boys went back to work, fixing their roofs 
and remaking their fires. This time everybody had 
better success, and several lunches were actually 
cooked inside the igloos, though not without a good 
deal of coughing and spluttering. When the fires 
had burned well down to coal beds, however, the 
smoke cleared, and the snow houses grew so warm 
that the boys had to remove sweaters and coats. 

44 Say, we could stay here all night if we had 
blankets ! ” cried Art, poking his head out of his 
door and addressing the other igloos. Out of an- 
other door came a second head, like a woodchuck 
out of a hole. 

“Sure,” was the answer, 44 but you couldn’t make 
my mother believe it.” 

44 1 suppose not,” said Arthur sadly. 

And it was even so. The boys pleaded, but their 
parents were adamant. There was no sleeping out 
that winter, though many a Saturday was spent in 
the igloos, and Arthur Bruce kept a note-book, 
wherein he recorded all the different animal and 
bird tracks found on the snow either around the 
camps, or on the way to them through the woods, 


270 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


with drawings of them as correct as he could make. 
The boys were amazed to find that the number 
reached nearly to the hundred mark before the 
winter was over. 

All this was great fun, but the spring was not 
finally to come without a real adventure. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


The Great Fire 

I T was early in March, though there was still snow 
on the ground, that the great fire in Bidwell oc- 
curred. Like so many great fires, it had a humble 
beginning. A woman, getting up early, lighted a 
glass lamp to dress by. She put her curling tongs 
down the chimney to heat them, and in some way 
their weight overbalanced the lamp and it fell to the 
floor and broke. The escaped oil took fire, and the 
woman, not being a scout, was unprepared. She 
dashed water on the burning oil, instead of smother- 
ing it with rugs or blankets, and soon the whole 
room, and then the house, was ablaze. There was 
a high March wind blowing ; the house was on a 
crowded street close to the business section of town. 
By the time the fire engines got there, the chief 
realized that he had a conflagration on his hands, 
and telephoned madly for aid to all the neighboring 
towns. 

Southmead was one of them, about twenty miles 
away. One of Southmead’s two fire engines and 
one of the hose wagons were rushed out and hurried 
to the railroad, where they were dragged aboard a 
271 


272 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

flat car. Of course, the getting out of the engine 
aroused the town. Rob, the Teddy Bear, and two 
or three more of the older scouts joined the engine 
company and went to Bidwell on the train. The 
rest of the boys gathered at the station watched 
their departure enviously. 

But every scout was yet to have his chance. At 
noon Mr. Rogers received a telephone call from 
Rob. 

“ The whole town’s burning,” he panted excitedly 
through the ’phone, “ and they’ve got only a small 
police force, and people may be getting hurt, and 
I’ve patched up two men already, and they’re afraid 
of thieves and things when night comes, and I’ve 
told ’em the scouts might act as guards, and they’d 
be glad to have us, and can you get the scouts down 
here on the afternoon train ? ” 

Mr. Rogers caught a lot of the boys coming out 
of school. These boys rallied the others. Word 
was sent to the teachers that the boys were playing 
“ hooky ” under orders, and Mr. Rogers took the 
blame. Some of the parents protested, but their 
objections were silenced, either by Mr. Rogers’ argu- 
ments, or by the boys’ excited insistence. Here was 
a real chance for the scouts to help people, to show 
what they were made of! Each boy, large and 
small, with a roll of blankets, some provisions and 
his toughest scout staff, was on the station platform 


THE GREAT FIRE 


273 


for the 3:05 train. In less than an hour’s time they 
alighted on the Bidwell platform and saw a scene of 
wildest excitement and desolation, while the smell 
of burning wood, and water-soaked embers, and 
smoke filled their nostrils and choked their throats. 

The fire had started in a row of small wooden 
dwellings between the station and the main business 
street. It had gone through this row of houses, 
leaving nothing but charred cellar holes, then, with 
a shift in the wind, it had jumped across the street 
and licked up two or three dwellings there, then 
jumped back again and swept on to the main street, 
where it had started in without discrimination to eat 
up jewelry stores, grocery shops, business offices, 
the town hall, a church, and several dwellings. Both 
to right and left, the efforts of the firemen had 
checked its devastations at the first open space, but 
with the wind behind it, it had jumped the broad 
street, attacked a brick block opposite, burned 
through that, and started down a cross street of resi- 
dences, the great burning embers, shingles, boards, 
even huge planks, being sucked up into the air by 
the draft of the fire and swept on by the wind to set 
new fires on roofs far ahead. 

But the wind had mercifully shifted by the time 
the scouts arrived ; the fire was being driven back 
over the charred embers and still blazing piles of 
brick and lumber — once business blocks or houses — 


274 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

which marked its morning track. It was now under 
control, as the firemen say, and the rest of the town 
saved. But what a scene of desolation ! The South- 
mead scouts, forming in column of twos, marched 
up the road past the house where the conflagration 
began. The streets were full of women and chil- 
dren, sitting by huddled piles of such furniture, 
clothes and bedding as they had been able to save. 
Some were weeping. Others were dumb, silent, as 
if they hardly comprehended what had happened. 
Defiling into the main street, the boys found engines 
still playing on the burning blocks, some of which 
were now but jagged, skeleton walls of scorched 
brick. The street was full of water, broken glass, 
smoking embers, and shouting men. Down the 
opposite cross street, where the fire had jumped, 
was a similar scene, with more fire engines, and 
carts coming to haul off the helter-skelter piles of 
furniture. Everywhere the boys could see signs 
of the general terror, for from houses which had 
not been burned all the furniture had been hastily 
carried, the goods had been rushed out of shops 
and stacked in the middle of the road, and many 
houses, otherwise unharmed, had holes burned in 
the shingles by falling embers. These fires had been 
extinguished by the owners, who had spent all day 
since early morning on their roofs, with buckets or 
garden hose. 


THE GREAT FIRE 


275 


“ I guess there’s work for us here, all right ! ” 
cried Mr. Rogers, looking about at the smoking 
chaos, and at the drawn, white, tired faces of the 
passers. 

Just then Rob came running up with two men. 

“These are two of the selectmen,” he cried. 
“ They want us to help getting furniture back where 
it’s safe to put it, and to divide up to-night and help 
patrol the town. They think there are going to be 
thieves who’ll come and try to loot the stores and 
things.” 

“That’s what we’re here for,” the scout-master 
answered. 

They were now joined by the other boys who had 
come down that morning, and who were grimed 
and wet and even scorched from their work with the 
Southmead fire company. They fell in with their 
patrols, and, under the advice of the selectmen, the 
boys were divided up into several groups, each with 
a leader, and each assigned to a particular house or 
neighborhood, to give all possible aid there, and to 
maintain order till six o’clock, when everybody was 
to report on the common for a bite of supper and 
his night assignment. With a shout of excitement 
the boys now stacked their blankets and kits on the 
common, where the ground was half hidden under 
charred embers, left one scout to guard the pile — 
under violent protest from him, by the way, though 


276 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

he obeyed — and scattered, each in his group, to the 
places assigned. 

Several of the business blocks on the closely built 
main street were still burning so much that it was 
not deemed safe to put any goods back into the 
stores which had not caught fire, since the wind 
might spring up again, and the fire sweep down 
the street anew. Instead, more goods still were 
removed, and an effort made to take them, together 
with those already out, to various places of safety. 
But the time was short before dark, and the goods 
many. It was impossible to work at night, because 
the street lamps were out of commission as well as 
the lights in most of the buildings. Wires had been 
cut right and left by the firemen to get ladders up 
to roofs and windows. Half of the scouts worked at 
this task, half worked among the residences, help- 
ing the owners to get their furniture back into their 
houses, or the people whose houses had been burned 
to get what goods they had saved into teams and 
carried to other houses or barns for storage. For 
two hours the boys worked like beavers. Then, at 
six o’clock, they gathered on the common. 

A hasty supper was eaten, coffee being made and 
bacon fried over a fire built of the charred lumber 
which littered the sidewalks. Everything tasted of 
smoke and water scorched embers, while the in- 
cessant chug, chug, of a score of fire engines, the 


THE GREAT FIRE 


277 


continual shouts of the firemen, the whistles shriek- 
ing for coal, made such an uproar that the boys 
could scarcely make themselves understood. While 
they were still at supper the chief of police came up. 

“ Most of your scouts are pretty small for such 
work,” he said to the leaders, “and I take it you’ll 
have one big boy with every two little ones. I’ve 
drafted in a hundred townsmen as special police to- 
night, and we are going to try to throw a cordon 
round the burned section, and let nobody inside ex- 
cept the firemen and the owners of buildings. The 
last train into town brought a big crowd of sight- 
seers, and probably some of ’em are thieves. We’ve 
got to keep a sharp watch. Here’s the signal for 
help.” 

The chief drew his billy and rapped several times 
sharply on a curbstone. 

“ If that doesn’t work,” he went on, “ give three 
sharp whistles and repeat. The password of my 
special police force to-night is * Hot stuff.’ You’ll 
have the same word. Don’t tell anybody. If a man 
isn’t a fireman and can’t give that password to- 
night, don’t let him by. If he says he’s a house or 
store owner, hold him and send for one of the 
regular police to identify him. I’ll send some of 
my men to post you in a few minutes. Good-bye, 
boys ; we’ve got a job ahead of us.” 

“ Good-bye,” called the boys. While they were 


278 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

excitedly repeating the password — “ Gee, it’s like 
war 1 ” said Peanut — Mr. Rogers and the patrol 
leaders divided them into groups of three, each two 
smaller boys with a larger boy. Peanut, Arthur and 
Rob were together, Lou, Dennie and Milt Noble, 
Prattie, Willie and the Teddy Bear, and so on. 

“ Take your blankets and food,” Mr. Rogers 
ordered, “ and one boy can sleep three hours while 
the other two watch, then he’s to be waked, and a 
second boy sleep three hours, and then the third. 
But wake the sleeper anyhow at the first sign of 
alarm.” 

The boys shouldered their rolls, and waited ex- 
citedly in the dull red glow of the still burning busi- 
ness block on the main corner, for their orders to 
come. 

Presently three policemen drew near, divided the 
scouts in three groups, and marched them away. 
One division turned down toward the depot, into 
the region where the fire had begun. The second 
turned down the opposite cross street. The third, 
in which Peanut, Art and Rob found themselves, 
was led up the main street, through water now 
rapidly turning to black, sooty slush and ice. Just 
beyond the burned area they halted. 

“ Three of you camp here, in the street,” said the 
policeman, “and let nobody pass or touch those 
piles of goods on the sidewalk. You’ll have a 


THE GREAT FIRE 


279 


couple of us to help you, after we’ve cleared the 
street.” He then led the rest down an alley, and 
began posting them behind the burned area, in 
stable yards and courts. They found several of 
the men drafted as special police already there, and 
the scouts were posted at such points as needed 
covering between the men. 

“ Know the password, boys ? Good. Now keep 
your eyes peeled, and don’t all of you go to sleep at 
once.” 

He went off. Peanut, Art and Rob found them- 
selves in a kind of courtyard down behind a brick 
block which had been only partially burned. The 
upper two stories were a mere shell, but the lower 
two were only water soaked, with broken windows 
staring in the darkness. A fire engine had been in 
the rear alley, and the firemen had smashed out the 
rear doors to carry their lines into the block, so that 
now anybody could enter. Looking in the other 
direction, the boys saw that the court was bounded 
by the alley down which they had come, running 
parallel to the main street, and across this alley coal 
yards began, stretching away toward the railroad. 
The court and allej' were full of cinders and fast 
freezing water. It was easy to see how important 
an engine had been at that point, for if the coal 
yards had caught fire, it would have required days 
to put them out. 


230 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ Peanut,” said Rob, “ you take the first nap. 
Find a dry corner, and curl up in all our blankets. 
It’s now about eight. We’ll wake you at eleven.” 

“ Aw, no, not yet ! ” Peanut protested. “ Let’s 
go into the store first, and see what’s there.” 

“ Maybe it isn’t safe,” said Art. “ If the upper 
floors are burned they may fall in.” 

“ You keep watch here, Art, and Peanut and I’ll 
take a peek into the door, anyhow,” Rob answered. 

They climbed the wet, slippery steps and peered 
into the dark interior. Nothing was visible. Strik- 
ing matches, they advanced a little way into the wet 
gloom. By the flare of the matches they could see 
that they were in a store. And through the holes 
where the plate glass windows had been in front, 
they could see police, with lanterns, clearing the 
main street of all loiterers and sightseers, and hear 
their shouts of “ Move on, there ! Everybody out of 
the street ! ” 

Lighting fresh matches, the boys felt about and 
discovered that a part of the contents of the store 
had been removed. Boxes had been dragged down, 
counters overthrown, showcases carried off bodily. 
But a great deal still remained, now wet and half 
unrecognizable. 

“ It was a kind of dry-goods store, I guess,” said 
Rob. 

Peanut emitted a shrill whistle for reply. “ Look 


THE GREAT FIRE 


281 


here ! ” he exclaimed ; “ a case of jewelry they didn't 
get out ! ” 

“Well, it's up to us to see that nobody else gets 
it,” said Rob. “ There must be a lot of stuff here 
protected by shelves and counters which the water 
hasn’t spoiled. It’s a great chance for thieves to- 
night.” 

Returning to the court, Peanut was wrapped in 
the blankets in a dry corner and told to get some 
sleep. Rob and Art, their staffs in their hands, 
went out into the alley and walked first in one direc- 
tion, then in the other, to find where the next sentries 
were posted. On either side of them, not very far 
away, was one of the special police, drafted for the 
night. They exchanged passwords, and moved 
back to their own post. For an hour nothing 
happened. Peanut slept peacefully in his blankets. 
Art stood guard at the gate from the alley into the 
court. Rob had crossed the alley and entered the 
coal yards, to get the lay of land in there. Suddenly 
Art heard steps. At first he thought it was Rob 
returning, but in a moment a strange man emerged 
from the coal yard and, crossing to him, started to 
pass. 

“ Halt ! ” cried Art, blocking the way with his 
staff. “ Give the password ! ” 

“ My name’s Roper, and that’s my store,” the man 
replied, pointing over Art’s head. “ I’ve left some 


282 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


important papers in there in the safe, I just remem- 
bered, and I must get them.” 

“ Go up to the head of Main Street and tell the 
policeman, then,” Art replied. “You can’t go in 
this way. I don’t know you.” 

“ Say, who are you, you fresh kid ? ” the man 
suddenly muttered. “ I’ll see whether I can go into 
my own store or not ! ” 

He made a pass at Arthur to hit him in the face, 
but Art, who was a good boxer, threw up his guard 
and avoided the blow, at the same time giving three 
shrill whistles and then crying, “ Peanut ! ” 

A small form emerged from the pile of blankets 
in the court and launched itself on the man, just as 
he was striking at Arthur again. Peanut caught him 
round the knees with a flying tackle, and the on- 
slaught was so unexpected that down he came, with 
Arthur’s staff crushing into his derby hat at the 
same instant. Both boys were on top of him, and 
before he could shake them off Rob and the two 
police from either side came rushing up. The man 
was held a prisoner while one of the specials ex- 
amined him. 

“ Roper 1 ” he cried. “ I live in the next house to 
Roper. You never even saw this town before. 
Here, boys, help me tie his hands and we’ll take him 
to the lock-up.” 

They knotted a handkerchief ’round his wrists 


THE GREAT FIRE 


283 


behind him, and Art (nursing a sprained thumb 
where the man’s blow had caught his guard) and 
one of the special officers led him off. 

“ Number one ! ” said Rob. “ I don’t see how he 
got by me in the coal yards. I was in there investi- 
gating. He must have been hiding, waited till I 
was beyond him, and then came here, thinking only 
one small boy was on guard.” 

“ Well, he got the wrong small boy,” laughed the 
other special. 

“ He got two of ’em ! ” cried Peanut. “ Gee, 
that flying tackle of mine was against the new foot- 
ball rules, though ! ” 

“Any rules go here,” laughed Rob. Then he 
added seriously, “ If that man could be hiding in the 
coal yards, others can hide there. It’s the best way 
to sneak up on this block of stores. We’ll have to 
watch that spot.” 

The special went back to his post. Peanut, too 
wide awake now to sleep again, watched with Rob till 
Art came back. Then they put Art to sleep in the 
blankets, and paced back and forth in the alley, their 
eyes peering into the dark recesses of the opposite 
coal yards, through what seemed endless hours of 
the cold night. Nothing happened. At two o’clock 
Peanut suggested that it was Rob’s turn to sleep. 

“ I don’t like to,” said Rob. “ I don’t like to 
leave you kids on the job alone 1 ” 


284 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


“ Pooh,” said Peanut, “ I guess we got on all right 
before! Besides, we’ll wake you, don’t worry. 
You’ve been working all day, and if you don’t get a 
nap, you’ll be good for nothing.” 

Rob finally consented, and Art was pinched and 
shaken till he awoke while Rob crawled into the 
warm blankets, his staff beside him. Sitting in the 
courtyard gate, Peanut and Art made a tiny fire of 
chips and toasted some bacon, but keeping all the 
time an eye on the coal yard opposite. Suddenly 
Art gave a start. 

“I just saw a head come up above the board 
fence,” he whispered. “ I saw it plain against the 
sky. Somebody’s watching us.” 

“ Whoever it is wall stay there till he gets a chance 
to sneak in,” Peanut whispered back. “ Let’s pre- 
tend we didn’t see, and let him try it.” 

“ He may have a gun. This fire makes too good 
a mark,” came the whispered reply. “Just pretend 
we’re through with it.” 

The boys arose as calmly as they could, stamped 
out the little fire, and stepped out into the alley, one 
moving to the left, the other to the right. They kept 
in the dark shadow of the courtyard fence, so that 
they could look back without being seen. They had 
gone perhaps fifty feet in either direction when they 
heard the next sentry up the line challenging some- 
body. There was a noise of loud voices and shout- 


THE GREAT FIRE 


285 


ing. Peanut heard Arthur’s feet dashing up the 
alley, and he was about to dash in that direction too, 
when something impelled him to take a last look at 
the coal yard fence opposite their post. He saw a 
black figure rise on top of it, against the sky, drop 
down into the alley, and spring across to the gate of 
the court. Peanut emitted three whistles and a yell, 
and sprang after the man. As he entered the gate 
he was aware of Rob, staff in hand, darting up the 
steps of the store. Peanut followed in mad pursuit. 
The two paused in the pitch black entrance. 

“ You let him get in ! ” cried Rob, angrily. “ Get 
out of the doorway, so he can’t get a shot at you 
with the light behind ! Now, go quick and get 
help ! ” 

But it wasn’t necessary to go for help. Art and 
the two specials now came running up. One of the 
specials had a pocket electric search-light. 

“ Get to my left side ! ” he commanded in a whis- 
per. Then, holding the light out as far from him as 
he could on his right side, he flashed it into the in- 
terior of the store. A shot rang out in the clammy 
darkness and a spot of red came from behind an 
overturned counter. The bullet went over the spe- 
cial’s right hand. With a yell, the other special, who 
had pulled his gun before entering the store, answered 
the fire. Then there was a sudden rush. The thief, 
who had crept from behind the counter to a point 


286 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


near the door, dove right into the men and boys, 
knocking Peanut and Rob down, and before anybody 
could grab him, was down the steps. The special 
turned and fired after him, but almost as quick as his 
bullet Peanut and Rob were up and in pursuit, fol- 
lowed by the others. They saw him scale the coal 
yard fence, and over the fence they went after him. 
A lane led down through the coal pockets, and up 
this lane they heard his feet. 

“ Look out ; he’s got a gun ! ” called the special be- 
hind them. But Peanut and Rob were too excited 
and mad to listen. 

“ If he follows this lane,” panted Rob, “ he’ll end 
up at a high wall. The way out is to the right, be- 
tween two pockets.” 

They dashed on. Now they could see the thief. 
He failed to turn where he should have for escape. 
Now they were almost on him. Suddenly he turned 
as if to fire, and Peanut dove into his knees while 
Rob swung his staff with all his might against the 
upraised arm. The blow exploded the revolver 
harmlessly into the air, and sent it swirling out of 
his grasp as the man fell to the ground. Rob gave 
him another whack on the head just as the specials 
and Art came up and landed their combined weights 
on his legs and arms. He ceased to fight now, and 
they bound him fast and carried him back to the 
alley. 


THE GREAT FIRE 


287 


“ Number two,” panted Rob. 

Then followed explanations of how it all happened. 

“ The kids aren’t so much to blame,” said one of 
the specials. “ He evidently had a pal, who was to 
create a rumpus down the line and draw the boys 
away while this one got into the store.” 

“ Sure,” said Peanut, “ we had him spotted all 
right, but when we heard the row down the alley, 
we thought he’d gone along behind the fence and 
tried somewhere else. Gee, if I hadn’t looked back, 
I’d never have seen him at all.” 

“ It fooled me, all right,” Art confessed. “ I’d 
started for the noise when I heard Peanut’s whistle.” 

“ They didn’t whistle for help down the line, did 
they ? ” Rob asked. 

“ No,” Peanut and Art acknowledged. 

“ Well, till they did, your duty was here on your 
)wn post, wasn’t it ? ” 

“Yes,” they admitted. 

“ Well, you should have stayed on it. You should 
never have allowed him to get into the store. It’s a 
wonder some of us aren’t shot full of holes.” 

“ Oh, let up on the kids ; they’ve done great work 
to-night, I think,” said one of the specials. 

“ Orders are orders,” Rob answered, “ and scouts 
are supposed to obey ’em. That man wouldn’t have 
got by if they had obeyed. Isn’t that so, Art ? ” 

“Yes,” Art said. “We got caught in a trap. 


288 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


We oughtn’t even to have left the gate while we 
were watching him. But we did want to catch 
him!” 

“ Isn’t that so, Peanut?” 

“ Yes,” said Peanut. “ But say, that was a great 
scheme of yours ” (here he turned to the special offi- 
cer) “ to hold out the search-light to one side. Gee, 
I guess it saved your life ! ” 

“ I guess it did,” the man replied. “ Now every- 
body on the job again, and don’t try to do too 
much next time, kids.” 

None of the boys slept again. They tramped 
on sentry till daybreak, without further signs of 
marauders. At six o’clock the police came through 
the alley with a relief guard of townsmen. The 
tired, sleepy boys picked up their blankets and 
marched back to the common. 

There the other scouts were already gathered, or 
rapidly collecting. They were a cold, tired, sleepy- 
eyed looking lot, but the excitement of their night’s 
adventures was still upon them, and while breakfast 
was cooking they swapped experiences. Two of the 
boys had narrowly escaped injury when the wall of 
a burned building fell over into the street. Three 
others, like Peanut, Rob and Art, had chased a 
thief, though he had escaped them into the woods 
beyond the town. Several more had challenged 
men, turning them over to the police if they claimed 


THE GREAT FIRE 


289 


to be property owners. Still other boys had aided 
householders, by lantern light, to get furniture back 
into their homes, or to hunt for valuables in the 
ruins of burned houses. Nearly everybody had 
some tale to tell, though the “ coal yard guard,” as 
Peanut, Rob and Art were dubbed, had the only ad- 
venture with gun-fire in it to report. 

While they were at breakfast several women drove 
up in a carriage with fruit and fresh doughnuts and 
a huge tank of coffee, and presently the selectmen 
appeared, and the chief of police, to thank the boys. 

“You scouts are all right,” said the chief, “and 
any of you can have a job on my force when you 
want it.” 

“ I want to thank you on behalf of the town,” said 
the chairman of the selectmen, “and I want to know 
if there’s anything we can do to show our grati- 
tude?” 

“ I think there is,” said Mr. Rogers. “ If you’d 
write us a note of thanks on the town stationery, 
we’d like to hang it in the club house as a record. 
And we are all only too glad to have been of a little 
aid to you, and we are sorrier than we can tell that 
Bidwell has suffered this great calamity, and wish 
you all luck and speed in recovering from it. Don’t 
we, boys?” 

“ Sure ! ” cried the scouts in chorus. 

“ Three cheers for a bigger, better Bidwell ! ” cried 


0 


290 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

the Teddy Bear, and the cheers were given with a 
will. 

The fire was now practically out, though a few of 
the larger buildings were still smouldering. How- 
ever, the local fire department was sufficient to at- 
tend to them, and the engines from the neighboring 
towns began to hitch up and move toward the rail- 
road. The scouts shouldered their blanket rolls, 
hunted up the Southmead engine, and marched be- 
hind it to the station. Several people gave them a 
cheer as they passed. A boy cried out to his com- 
panion, “Hi, there’s the scouts who pinched two 
thieves ! ” A woman ran from a doorway to thank 
again two of the scouts who had helped her get 
back her furniture. 

“Gee!” said Peanut, “we oughter have a brass 
band.” 

“ All I want,” said Willie Walker, “ is some sleep.” 

“ Me, too ! ” came a chorus. 

“Ho ! I'm not sleepy ! ” cried Peanut. 

But once on the train, Peanut dropped into dream- 
land in exactly one minute and thirty seconds, and 
had to be shaken three times at the Southmead 
depot before he’d wake up. 


CHAPTER XXIX 

Merit Badges and Memorial Day Parade 
HE Chipmunks, the Owls, the Woodchucks, all 



X the patrols, large and small, were growing up 
now. Even Peanut had suddenly taken a spurt and 
added during the winter more than an inch to his 
height and more than ten pounds to his weight. 
Art was a stocky proposition, weighing a hundred 
and twelve. Many of the Woodchucks had passed, 
or would pass that spring, their eighteenth birth- 
days, so that they would have to leave the troop as 
active members, becoming assistant scout-masters, 
or keeping up, if they chose, a patrol of graduate 
scouts, for this was before the age limit had been re- 
moved. Thus some of the best athletes in the pa- 
trol, including Joe Donovan and Joe Rathbun, would 
be ineligible to compete in the June track meet. 

“You two Joes had better hurry up and get your 
honor badges for athletics before it’s too late,” Mr. 
Roger's said to them one day in April. “ You’ll 
both be eighteen next month. Why don’t you come 
down to the track next Saturday and have a try at 
the medal ? ” 

The two boys consented, and began to train for 


291 


292 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

the event. When Saturday came, all the other 
scouts and several members of the local council, as 
judges, were on hand. It was a hard test the boys 
had to meet, as both of them weighed over one 
hundred and forty pounds, and these were the records 
they had to make, in a list of thirteen events : 


(I) 

Running broad jump 

16 feet 

(2) 

Running high jump 

4 feet, 10 inches 

(3) 

Standing broad jump 

8 feet, 6 inches 

(4) 

Standing high jump 

3 feet, 10 inches 

(5) 

Pull-up 

13 times 

(6) 

20 yard swim 

12 seconds 

(7) 

40 yard swim 

36 seconds 

(8) 

50 yard dash 

61-5 seconds 

(9) 

Eight-potato race 

37 seconds 

(io) 

8 lb. -shot put 

40 feet 

(ii) 

Push-up from floor 

17 times 

( I2 ) 

Rope climb 

8 seconds 

(i3) 

100 yard dash 

12 1-5 seconds. 


Of course, the swimming tests had to be made at 
the pond, and the rope climbing test and pull-up at 
the club house. At the track both scouts easily beat 
the one-hundred-yard dash test of twelve and one- 
fifth seconds, Joe running the distance in ten and four- 
fifths. They also qualified in the fifty-yard dash, the 
potato race, the shot put and the running broad jump. 
Joe Rathbun, too, who was an exceptionally good 
jumper, qualified in the other jumps. But Joe Don- 
ovan failed at all three. A standing broad jump of 
eight feet, six inches, and a running high jump of 
four feet, ten inches, require exceptional leg spring 


MERIT BADGES 


293 


and the right knack. Indeed, it may be questioned 
if most of the jump tests prescribed in the scout 
“ Manual ” are not too severe, for all ages. For in- 
stance, a standing broad jump for boys under ninety 
pounds of six feet, six inches, is, as Peanut put it, 
“some jump!” Joe Donovan, however, was not a 
boy to be stumped. He and Joe Rathbun each met 
the swimming and pull-up tests, and handed in sat- 
isfactory papers of five hundred words describ- 
ing how to train, and they also gave correctly 
the rules for track and field events. Then Joe set 
about learning to jump. In another week he 
had cleared the required distances, and a few days 
later both boys received from New York their merit 
badges for athletics, a winged foot, which they fast- 
ened proudly on the right sleeve of their uniforms. 
These were the first merit badges any of the boys had 
won, and all the other boys who had qualified as first- 
class scouts began to clamor for merit badges, too. 

The next few weeks were a busy time for the boys 
and for the scout council, too. First, along came 
Peanut with an octagonal tabouret he had made, 
and the plans and sketches for it, and a demand that 
he have a merit badge for craftsmanship. The 
council examined the sketches, stood the tabouret 
on the floor and shook it to see if it was firm, asked 
Peanut if he made it without assistance, examined 
the joints, felt the smoothness of the polish, and 


294 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

awarded him his medal. Soon, on his right sleeve, 
he wore a circle with a drawing compass inside, the 
merit badge for craftsmanship. 

Rob, of course, tried for the first aid badge 
which he had no difficulty in winning. He had 
already taken and passed the international Red 
Cross examination, and he was studying hard for 
college and then the Harvard Medical School. As 
soon as he had his first aid badge he went to work 
for the public health badge, and was the first scout 
to win two merits. 

Art Bruce demanded that the council come up to 
the lake and see him swim. The tests were to swim 
one hundred yards, dive properly from the surface 
of the water, demonstrate breast, crawl and side 
stroke, and swim fifty feet on the back. Art swam 
one hundred yards and back again, dove from the 
surface of the water and from a spring-board, dem- 
onstrated the three strokes, and then showed the 
council (most of whom had never seen it) the 
DanielPs kick, which he had learned from a maga- 
zine article, and finally swam on his back and floated. 

“ He’s not a boy, he’s a fish,” laughed one of the 
council. “ Give him the badge.” 

“ I want a badge for gardening,” said Lou Merritt 
to Mr. Rogers. “ Miss Swain has given me a piece 
of ground behind the house, and the gardener up at 
the Van Antwerps’ has given me a lot of seeds and 


MERIT BADGES 


295 


cuttings. I’ve grafted two of the apple trees already. 
I guess I can keep Miss Swain in vegetables all 
summer, and do you suppose I can get a merit 
badge, too ? ” 

“Of course you can, Lou,” said Mr. Rogers. 
“ We’ll give you your examination as soon as the 
garden has come along and begun to bear. You 
like gardening?” 

“Yes, sir,” answered Lou. “I’d like to own a 
garden some time ; a big one, I mean, and make it 
pay!” 

“Well, if you get your merit badge,” said the 
scout-master, “ I think perhaps we can fix it so you 
can go, as soon as you are old enough, to the Am- 
herst Agricultural College, and learn the whole busi- 
ness scientifically. Would you like that ? ” 

“ Would I ? ” said Lou. “ Then I could pay back 
Miss Swain ! ” 

“ That’s the way to talk,” said Mr. Rogers. 

The 30th of May was now approaching, and the 
preparations began for the annual celebration of 
Memorial Day. Southmead had sent more than a 
hundred men to the Civil War, and seventy of them 
had come back from it. But that was forty-six years 
ago. Now there were only seven left, seven old and 
feeble men, to represent the Grand Army of the 
Republic, and to carry baskets of flowers every 30th 
of May ’round the village cemetery to be placed on 


296 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 


the graves of their comrades. The Women’s Relief 
Corps followed them in the procession, but they, too, 
were growing few in number and feeble in body. 
Every year the procession grew smaller and moved 
with slower step behind the band. All the scouts 
had watched this procession from year to year, with- 
out thinking much what it meant. But this year 
they suddenly found themselves invited to partici- 
pate. 

Ephraim Temple, or “ Old Eph,” as he was famil- 
iarly and affectionately called by all the village, came 
to the Scout House one evening with the invitation. 
He made a little speech to the scouts. 

“We fellers that ‘fit and bled’ to keep all the 
stars in the corner of Old Glory,” he said, “are get- 
ting older and fewer now. In a few years more 
there won’t be any of us left to carry ’round the 
flowers on Decoration Day, and fire the volleys. 
We want somebody to keep up the old custom, 
and to remember us when we are gone. You boys 
know how to march a bit, and you’re good boys and 
you’ve done fine things, I hear tell, and so we old 
Vets want you to march with us this year, if you 
will, and remember, with us, what Decoration Day 
means, that it means men fought and died to save 
the old flag. Will you do it, boys ? ” 

“ Of course we will,” Joe Donovan answered for 
the troop. 


MERIT BADGES 


297 


“You call yourselves scouts,” the old man went 
on, “ but I guess you don’t know much about what 
real scouting is, and I pray God you may never 
know — creeping through the Virginia swamps won- 
dering when you’re going to get a bullet in the 
head, or lying out in the frozen mud afraid to move, 
with a dead man beside you. War’s an awful thing, 
boys, but if it ever has to come, you’re going to be 
the ones who are ready for it.” 

Then the old man went out, followed by a cheer. 

With this new task ahead of them, the scouts real- 
ized for the first time that they had no American 
flag to carry. 

“ We haven’t got one for the Scout House, either,” 
cried Joe Donovan. “ Say, let’s take up a subscrip- 
tion right now, and buy one. Peanut, you’re the 
carpenter ; put up a pole to-morrow on the house.” 

Joe passed the hat, securing promises from the 
boys who had no change with them, and the next 
day he bought two flags, one for the scouts to carry, 
one to fly from the club house. Meanwhile Peanut 
and Art cut a young, straight pine in the woods, 
peeled it, fastened a pulley to the top, and secured 
it to the club house, at the front end of the ridge 
pole, first, of course, running a long cord through 
the pulley. And for the next few evenings the scouts 
met regularly and went through marching drill. 

“ If we’re going to parade, we’ve got to make a 


298 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

good show," said Joe, putting the troop through 
column rights, and right fours into line and left 
obliques, and all the rest, over and over again. 

At half-past nine on Decoration Day morning all 
the scouts, in uniform, with their badges and service 
bars in place on their sleeves or chests, met at the 
club house. The house flag was brought out. 

“ Attention 1 Fall in ! " cried Rob. “ Right 'dress, 
count fours ! " 

“ One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four," 
came the snappy chorus. 

The Teddy Bear had been chosen as color bearer. 
He now made fast the house flag to the ropes, and 
started to haul. Every hand in the line went up to 
salute. The flag mounted to the top of the staff 
and whipped out in the breeze. Then it was lowered 
again to half staff, and made fast. The Teddy Bear 
now brought out the troop colors, and the pennants 
of each patrol, as well, to be carried by the corporals. 
Joe snapped out his orders. The line marched from 
the club house to the street, down the street to the 
G. A. R. post, and came to parade rest in front of 
the door. As the frayed old army colors were 
brought from the post rooms, they all uncovered, 
and again saluted. Then they took their place be- 
hind the seven veterans, their trim brown khaki 
uniforms and boyish faces contrasting oddly with 
the dark blue cloth uniforms of the veterans and 


MERIT BADGES 


299 


their white beards and bowed shoulders. The band 
struck up a slow march, and the procession moved 
toward the cemetery. 

There the Women’s Relief Corps met them, and 
after all had stood ’round the soldiers’ monument 
with uncovered heads while the chaplain prayed, the 
ladies gave to each boy a basket of flowers, which 
he was to put on a soldier’s grave. The graves 
were marked by two flags, set in an iron standard 
bearing the G. A. R. emblem. As the boys filed in 
groups around the quiet cemetery, while the band 
played a solemn dead march, and placed the flowers 
at the foot of the gravestones, each stone bearing 
the name of a man who had risked, or even lost, his 
life for his country, they got a new idea of what the 
Civil War meant, this war they had read about in 
their histories as only a record of battles and excite- 
ment. It meant graves at home, too ! 

“ Gee,” whispered Peanut to Art, “ seems as if 
most of the men in Southmead must have gone to 
the war ! Here’s one only nineteen years old — shot 
at Antietam. Why, he was no older than Joe 
Donovan will be next year ! ” 

“ Here’s one only eighteen,” Arthur replied. 
“‘Henry Johnson Putnam, aged eighteen years, 
eight months, killed May 5, 1864, in the Battle of 
the Wilderness. Duke et decorum est pro patria 
mori.’ I wonder what that means?” 


300 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ ‘ It is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country,’ ” 
said Rob, behind him. Rob was studying Latin for 
his college entrance examinations. 

The boys now had left their baskets, and at a sig- 
nal each one came to attention before the grave he 
had decorated, and waited the volleys. A firing 
squad of four veterans had marched with their old 
Springfields to a knoll at the centre of the cemetery, 
and there they loaded, raised the guns to their 
shoulders, and fired. Once, twice, three times, the 
volley spoke in the stillness with a solemn roar, like 
an echo of the terrible battles long ago, and the 
smoke and powder smell drifted slowly, solemnly, 
across the graves, borne on the May breeze — the 
soldiers’ salute to their dead. 

Then the ranks reformed, and the procession, fol- 
lowed by all the townspeople, moved to the Congre- 
gational Church, where the school children sang, 
“ How Sleep the Brave,” and the congressman from 
the district delivered a Memorial Day oration. 

Before it was over, some of the younger scouts 
grew pretty restless. 

“ I wish he’d tell more about the war and less 
about the trusts,” whispered Peanut. 

“ A just criticism,” Mr. Rogers whispered back, 
with a smile, “ but it’s up to us to keep perfect order, 
and listen. We are on parade to-day.” 

The oration was finally over, and the scouts, filing 


MERIT BADGES 


301 


out first, waited at attention for the veterans, and 
escorted them back to their post. Then they 
marched to their own club house, trooped colors, 
and disbanded. 

“ You've made a good showing, boys,” said one 
of the council, coming up. “ I guess we’ll have to 
class the scouts as a town institution now.” 

“ That's what we want,” Mr. Rogers replied. 
“ We're out to help Southmead as well as our- 
selves.” 

“ I wish next year,” said Peanut, “ we could have 
guns and fire the volleys.” 

“ Ho I ” cried Willie Walker, whose spirits, bottled 
up all the morning by the solemnity and discipline 
of the parade, now broke loose, “you couldn’t get 
one of those rifles up to your shoulder 1 ” 

“ Is that so ! ” said Peanut. And forgetful of 
badges and clean service stripes he made a dive for 
Willie’s knees and brought him down with a crash. 


CHAPTER XXX 


The Sanitary Crusade 

I T would have been a sad day for the scouts when 
Joe Donovan celebrated his eighteenth birthday, 
if Joe hadn’t immediately graduated into the post of 
assistant scout-master and athletic trainer. The 
Teddy Bear was elected the new track captain, and 
though the older boys were growing up out of the 
scouts at one end of the scale, new boys were grow- 
ing into the scouts at the other, and scouts like 
Willie Walker, who had been “ little kids ” two years 
ago, were getting into long trousers, and were find- 
ing themselves sent out to train for the distance 
runs. Willie still talked on all occasions, but he 
certainly had the makings of a good mile runner, 
even if he did invariably shout on the third lap that 
he’d left his wind at the other side of the track, thus 
using up some more of it — and wind is a very 
precious commodity in a mile race. Peanut was 
still small, but he was fast, and in another year the 
hopes of Southmead in the one hundred would be 
set on him. For the two-hundred-and-twenty he 
would probably always be too short-legged. 

But before we say good-bye to the Southmead 
302 


THE SANITARY CRUSADE 


303 


scouts, we must hear about the sanitary crusade. It 
isn’t quite so exciting as a track meet or a fire or a 
railroad wreck, but it is quite as important, and 
quite as real a part of scouting. 

Southmead, as we have said, is on a river, and 
that river in days long before this book was written, 
when the only scouts in Massachusetts were Indians, 
must have been a clear and beautiful stream, with 
deep, sandy-bottomed swimming holes under the 
great willow trees. But by the time Peanut and his 
friends came into the world nobody ever swam in it 
unless he fell in. It was filthy beyond words. Half 
a dozen towns above Southmead emptied their sew- 
age into the river, and a score of paper mills poured 
into it a steady stream of waste. This waste from 
the paper mills, however, while it made the water 
dirty, was not dangerous to health, because it was 
not composed of putrifying matter, but of chemicals. 
But the sewage which poured into the river was a 
menace to health, and as the population along the 
banks increased, it became more so year by year. 

When our scouts were very small boys the town 
of Southmead and two or three of the towns up- 
stream had installed sewer systems with filter beds, 
to better matters. Instead of emptying the sewage 
right into the river, it now was emptied into large 
beds of sand near the bank, and the sand filtered out 
the dangerous decaying matter and germs, so that 


30 4 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

the water finally reached the river perfectly clear. 
But of course it didn’t clean up the river to have four 
towns with filter beds, if four other towns continued 
to empty their sewage directly into the stream. 

Well, at the point we have reached in our story, 
Dr. Henderson, who taught the scouts first aid, 
together with several men from other towns along 
the river, was trying to get a bill passed in the legis- 
lature compelling all the towns on the stream to in- 
stall filter beds, and to compel all people who lived 
on brooks which flowed into the river to stop pol- 
luting such brooks. 

The doctor had taken some water from the river 
and analyzed it, finding it quite at the danger point. 
You see, flowing water is constantly changing its 
surface, and getting exposed to the air, so that na- 
ture purifies it to a certain extent, for oxygen is a 
great germ killer. But there is a limit to what the 
air can do. Fill your water too full of filth, and it 
cannot be aerated, or purified by the oxygen. The 
river was now in that condition. It was, as Dr. Hen- 
derson expressed it, an open cesspool, and might 
cause a disease epidemic at any time. 

The doctor felt that a petition to the legislature for 
relief could best come from Southmead, because 
Southmead was the first town on the river to install 
a filtration plant, and wasn’t doing anything, there- 
fore, to pollute the water — at least it wasn’t supposed 


THE SANITARY CRUSADE 


305 


to be doing anything. But the doctor looked around 
a bit, and found that Southmead was doing a good 
deal. He talked with Mr. Rogers about it, and Mr. 
Rogers talked with Rob, and the result was that the 
scouts converted themselves into a sanitary commis- 
sion to investigate and report to Dr. Henderson. 
The doctor gave them a talk on what to look for, 
and during the next week they went over the town 
with a fine tooth comb for violations of sanitation, 
reporting the definite character and location of each 
violation as soon as discovered. 

The first thing Rob did was to take Peanut and 
Art and go down on the flats to the sewer beds. 
The doctor had not dreamed of looking at these 
sewer beds. They were supposed to be all right. 
The boys never went there because of the smell. 
But Rob remembered seeing something queer on one 
of his trapping expeditions. The filter beds were 
down behind a piece of woods. There were four of 
them, each about two hundred feet square, divided 
by banks three or four feet high, and beyond these 
four main beds were two smaller ones. All the sew- 
age of the town emptied out over these beds, and 
filtered down through the sand. The man in charge 
could turn the sewage over whichever bed he chose 
by a system of valves. When one got too full he 
could divert the stream to another. There was one 
valve, however, which turned the whole stream 


3 o6 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

directly into the river. This was for emergencies — 
such, for instance, as a flood filling all the beds at once. 

When Rob, Peanut and Art drew near the beds, 
they saw that all of them were dry. Rob, with a cry, 
rushed along the bank to the end of the emergency 
pipe. All the sewage of Southmead, absolutely un- 
filtered, was pouring in a foul, gray stream, right into 
the river ! As the boys were looking, Art spied the 
man, whose job it was to watch the filter beds, com- 
ing along the path. 

“ Hist ! ” he said. “ Pretend we’re looking at 
something else ! ” 

The three scouts began to poke around an old 
muskrat hole. The man came up and glanced at 
them sharply. 

Peanut looked up innocently. “ Seen any musk- 
rats?” he asked. 

“ No,” said the man. 

“ We thought this might be a good place for ’em,” 
said Rob. 

The man walked on. The boys scurried home, 
saying nothing about what they had discovered. 

“We’ve got to catch him at it more than once,” 
cautioned Rob. 

The next day they waited till evening, when they 
knew the keeper would have gone home, before vis- 
iting the filter beds. The sewage was still pouring 
out from the emergency pipe, unfiltered. The third 


THE SANITARY CRUSADE 


3°7 


day it was the same. Then the boys hurried to Dr. 
Henderson and reported. He could hardly believe 
them at first, and went himself to the beds, with them 
for guides. One look at the dry sand convinced 
him, even before he saw the filthy stream pouring 
out of the emergency pipe. 

“ Well, you’ve got the goods, boys,” he said. “ I 
guess we call a meeting of the board of health to- 
morrow ! ” 

Of course, the keeper tried to explain, but the real 
explanation was that he had been shirking his duty, 
staying away from the beds for days at a time, and 
he had simply turned the sewage into the emergency 
pipe and left it there, as the easiest way. Nobody 
ever visited the beds, and he felt safe. The next 
day there was a new keeper, and the board of health 
passed a vote of thanks to the scouts. 

Meanwhile the scouts were busy all over town, as 
well as at the sewer beds. A group of them took 
each brook which flowed into the river, and followed 
it up to the source, noting every house on its banks 
where there was an open drain or any cesspools 
which could pollute the water. To the amazement 
of Dr. Henderson, they found one brook where nine 
houses on a strip of road beside it emptied all their 
sewage into the water, instead of into the town 
sewer. Of course, all this sewage was in the river 
ten minutes later. When the boys didn’t know the 


3 o8 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

name of a householder, they walked up to the door 
and asked. 

“ Say, what are you boys doing, spying ’round in 
my back yard?” one woman demanded angrily. 
“ You get out, or I’ll set the dog on you. It’s none 
of your business where my drain goes.” 

“ It’s everybody’s business where a drain goes,” 
said the Teddy Bear, who was leading the party. 
“ If you won’t tell us your name, maybe you’ll tell it 
to the board of health.” 

“ Or to the cop ! ” said Willie Walker. 

The woman looked a little frightened, as well as 
angry, and slammed the door in their faces. 

“ We got her scared ! ” said Willie. 

“ Take down the number of the house in the row,” 
commanded the Teddy Bear, “and we’ll report 
what’s happened.” 

Meanwhile Lou Merritt had taken a canoe, all by 
himself, and had paddled up and down the river 
scanning the banks. Hidden under a bridge he had 
found the end of an iron pipe, out of which was 
pouring sewage. He climbed the bank and looked 
around. There were four houses in a row not far 
off. It must come from them, he decided. How 
could he find out? Leaving his canoe tied to a 
root, he walked over to the first one, and rang. 

A woman came to the door. “ Are you having 
any trouble with the sewer?” he asked. 


THE SANITARY CRUSADE 


309 


“ Why, no ! ” she said, surprised. “ Is the sewer 
out of order ? We are not on the town sewer, you 
know. The houses along here empty into the river. 
It cost too much to make the change when the town 
sewer was put in.” 

“ Thank you,” said Lou, and walked away to re- 
port to Dr. Henderson. 

Well, at the end of a week, the doctor had a mass 
of evidence that amazed him. He took the board 
of health to all the places condemned by the scouts, 
to investigate and verify the facts for themselves, 
and then the board of health decided that before 
Southmead could ask other towns to put in sewers, 
they’d better clean up their own town. 

“ We must first cast the beam out of our own eye, 
before we try to cast the moat out of other people’s,” 
said the doctor. 

And in this work the scouts played a prominent 
part. Several of them found themselves in the 
curious position of arguing with their own parents. 

“ You young whipper-snapper,” laughed Prattie’s 
father, “ our drain’s been where it is nigh on thirty 
years, and we’re all right. I guess it can stay 
there.” 

“ But it’s going right into the brook, and the 
brook’s going right into the river,” cried Prattie. 
“ If everybody did that, the river’d smell so we 
couldn’t live in Southmead. Don’t you see ? Every - 


310 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

body's got to clean up and be sanitary before things 
will be right.” 

“ Sanitary your grandmother,” said Prattie’s father. 

But after the board of health had visited him the 
next day, he changed his tone. “ I believe you told 
'em about our drain ! ” he said to his son. 

“ Of course I did,” said Prattie. “ If I reported 
other people’s, I had to report ours, didn’t I ? ” 

The father was silent. He knew his boy was 
right. Two days later he began to dig a cesspool 
in the sand. 

Well, before Southmead was cleaned up, along 
every brook back into the hill farms, the work of the 
scouts had spread to other towns, and in Brookville 
below and two or three villages above the boy 
scouts were snooping around back yards, hunting 
out open drains and sources of water pollution. 
Their work and their talk began to make a good 
many grown people ashamed, who would have paid 
no attention to other grown people ; and though 
doctors and congressmen were directing the fight 
for a clean river, their best privates in the ranks 
were the boy scouts. 

“ Gee ! ” said Peanut one day, “ I can smell an 
open drain a mile off now ! ” 

“ Not in Southmead,” laughed Dr. Henderson ; 
"we haven’t got ’em any more, thanks to you boys.” 

It was the next day that Arthur Bruce came rush- 


THE SANITARY CRUSADE 


3ii 

ing into the doctor’s office, with news of a new and 
different pollution. 

Southmead got its drinking water from a lake 
three miles back into the hills. This lake was at the 
base of a mountain, and was fed, of course, by 
springs on the slope. Naturally, the whole moun- 
tainside was controlled by the town, to keep the 
water pure, and was covered with woods. But it 
was a large area, and the town was unable to police 
it, nor had there ever been any need for policing it. 

“I’ve just been up there,” panted Art, “’cause 
there are lots of blueberries near the top of the 
mountain, and I found two whole families of Poles, 
from the mills down Brookville way, I guess, camped 
up there. They are gathering ferns, digging ’em 
up roots and all, and picking berries, and they’ve 
built a camp right by the biggest spring, and all 
their waste of every kind is going right into the 
brook and down into the lake and we are drinking 
it and maybe some of ’em are sick, and something 
ought to be done and ” 

“ Hold on, Art ! ” cried the doctor. “ Get your 
wind and I’ll ’phone for the sheriff.” 

Fifteen minutes later Art and the sheriff sat in the 
doctor’s motor, and the three of them flew toward 
the lake. Art led them on foot up a trail through 
the woods, to the camp of the Poles. Conditions 
were quite as bad as Art had described. 


312 THE BOY SCOUTS OF BERKSHIRE 

“ Why ! ” cried the doctor. “ One case of typhoid 
in this filthy camp could give the disease to the 
whole town of Southmead ! ” 

The Poles were ordered off the property in a 
hurry, and Dr. Henderson sent back three scouts 
with Art to burn up all the waste and clean the 
camp site, while he examined men, women and chil- 
dren, one by one, for signs of contagious disease. 
Fortunately, none of them was sick. But the news 
soon spread over town that Arthur had averted an 
epidemic, and the scouts rose still another peg in 
popular estimation. 

“ Those boys are pretty useful citizens,” laughed 
one of the selectmen, at the next meeting of the 
board. “ They’ll be all ready to run the town by 
the time we get tired of the job ! ” 

The scouts weren’t ready to run the town, of 
course, but they were learning how to be ready, 
they were learning to “ be prepared,” to be the kind 
of citizens who keep their eyes open and work to- 
gether to make their town clean and well-governed. 
After all, the boy scout motto, “ Be Prepared,” 
means just this — be ready, when you grow up, to 
take an active and useful place in your community, 
be ready to help others, and know how to help 
others. 

“ And the funny part of it is,” said Peanut, when 
Mr. Rogers had been saying something like this to 


THE SANITARY CRUSADE 


3i3 


the boys one night, “ that it’s so much fun. You 
wouldn’t think it would be fun to smell out a drain.” 

“ It wouldn’t be,” said Rob, soberly, “ if you didn’t 
do it to get rid of the drain.” 

“ Right-o ! ” said Peanut. “ Down with the 
drains ! ” 

“ Well, you couldn’t put ’em up very well,” said 
Willie. “ Water won’t run that way.” 

“ Gee,” cried Peanut, “ Willie’s said something 
sensible ! ” 

Willie made a dive for Peanut’s legs, and the two 
rolled over on the grass. 

And there we shall leave them, the rest gathered 
in a circle around, and shouting : 

“ Get his shoulders down, Peanut ! ” 

“ Good for you, Willie ! ” 

“Jiu jitsu him, Peanut!” 

From out of the ring came the panting breaths of 
the wrestlers, and the half-smothered sounds of 
struggle and laughter, the honest, hearty struggle 
of healthy boys. You don’t have to forget how to 
wrestle to be a good scout ! 


FINIS 



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